


A Trio of Serpents

by onyxjay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aromantic Harry Potter, Asexual Harry Potter, Canon Compliant, Family Bonding, Friendship, Gen, Maybe - Freeform, No Smut, Queerplatonic Relationships, Slytherin Ginny Weasley, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherin Ron Weasley, Some Humor, Sporadic reptile facts brought to you by google
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 40,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27860278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyxjay/pseuds/onyxjay
Summary: "A Potter, a Weasley, and a Muggle-born in Slytherin. That's a pretty odd combination, don't you think?"
Relationships: Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin
Comments: 38
Kudos: 376





	1. The Letter from Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets his letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first eleven parts are posted on Wattpad already, so until I catch up, expect speedy-ish updates.

Ever since he first arrived at Privet Drive, Harry Potter had known he was different. Strange things would happen when his emotions spiked, such as the time he somehow ended up on the roof of the school. Even before that, though, his aunt and uncle made it clear he was a burden and that he was lucky they hadn't thrown him in a river never to be found again.

His cousin was just as terrible, having been raised to be like his father, although that was apparently something to be proud of if the gushing and cooing were anything to go by.

At the moment, Harry was sitting in his room. Well, room was probably the wrong word to use; he was in sitting in his cupboard. He supposed he was lucky enough to have even that, although that didn't stop him from envying his cousin Dudley's extra room.

He had just come back from a disastrous trip to the zoo for Dudley's birthday, in which the glass that separated the guests from the boa constrictor had disappeared. He swore he didn't know how it happened, but his uncle didn't believe him as usual.

_He's going to regret it_ , he thought darkly.  _One of these days, they'll pay_.

And if he had nothing to do with it, all the better because he wouldn't be blamed. He had enough of that to last several lifetimes.

One morning, as his Aunt Petunia was dyeing Dudley's old clothes gray for Harry's uniform, the mail arrived.

"Get the post, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the post, Harry."

Considering he actually used his name for once, Harry did without protest.

And almost at once had to stop his jaw from dropping. One of the envelopes was addressed to him.

_Mr H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

They even knew where he slept for some reason. Quickly, he stuffed the envelope in his shirt, which was big enough to hide just about anything, and handed Uncle Vernon the rest.

"Marge's ill," he remarked. "Ate a funny whelk..."

"Oh," said Aunt Petunia, looking sympathetic.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Aunt Marge would be fine before long and come by for a visit like her usual irritating self.

He went back to his cupboard and pulled out his letter.

_ HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY _

was written at the top.

Witchcraft? Wizardry? Like... magic? Harry blinked and continued to read.

It was a school... for people like him...  magical people. Was this why his uncle reacted so violently at the mere mention of the word magic? And bellowed in his face when he had mentioned his dream of the flying motorbike? And his aunt's derisive comments on how abnormal he was?

_ Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. _

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Minerva McGonagall _

Owl? What owl? Harry wished this McGonagall person would've written out some more instructions. Surely he wasn't the only one to be confused by the letter.

He waited until everyone was asleep before sneaking back outside. To his surprise, a handsome owl perched on the mailbox.

"Are you here for the letter?" Harry asked, feeling stupid for talking to an animal.

But the owl dipped its head.

"Okay, wait one second." Harry hurried back inside, scribbled a response, and hurried back out. "Here you go. Back to Minerva McGonagall or Albus Dumbledore."

The owl hooted and took off with Harry's response clutched in its talons.

A couple days later, he received a visitor. A hairy man, one that loomed over Harry, introduced himself as Rubeus Hagrid and told him he was to take Harry to get his supplies.

Aunt Petunia let out a shriek and dropped her plate, which thankfully only landed on the carpeted floor. "You know... How do you know?"

"What?" Hagrid boomed. "You mean to tell me you didn't tell him?"

"I got a letter the other day," Harry said as Aunt Petunia scrambled for a response. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to get my things."

"No." She tried to recollect herself. "You are not going to that school, I forbid it."

"I already sent my reply. If I don't show up, they'll notice."

Aunt Petunia looked conflicted. Then she snapped out, "Fine" and turned away.

Harry was silent for a moment. "The letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs."

Aunt Petunia, who had just leaned over to pick up the plate, dropped it again. "Was it?" she said in a voice straining to keep calm. "Well, I suppose you can have Dudley's old bedroom. You're getting quite big."

Harry, who had been a scrawny little boy for as long as he could remember, only said, "Sounds good to me." He turned and followed Hagrid. When he got back, he would clean up his new space. If he was going to sleep there, he may as well make it habitable.


	2. James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron gets his letter. And meets a potential friend.

All his life, Ron had known he was a wizard. He came from a magical family, after all, the Weasleys. But sometimes it could be overwhelming, especially when you have six siblings, only one of them being younger.

Bill and Charlie had left Hogwarts already and were doing their own things. Percy would be next in three years, and Ron could see a successful future for him as well. Even Fred and George, as much as they goofed off, would probably find something in life to accomplish.

And Ron? Well, he didn't know what he'd do. Or what his parents would think of him even if he was successful. If he became prefect or Head Boy, someone would've already earned it. Made the Quidditch team once past first year, Charlie had been there, done that.

So when his letter arrived, Ron didn't feel quite as elated as he probably should have felt. If anything, he became anxious when he overheard his mother fretting in a hushed voice to his father about how expensive everything would be.

Secondhand. He always got secondhand. Ron didn't blame his parents for it — he knew it wasn't their fault — but there was something depressing about never getting something of your own. Percy had gotten a new owl for his new status as prefect, but Ron was stuck with his pet rat, Scabbers, who was probably the most useless pet ever.

Still, Ron took very good care of him. And he sometimes asked Percy for advice when Scabbers was looking ill since he had been Scabbers' previous owner.

Ron's mother, Molly, took him, Percy, and the twins to Diagon Alley the next day to get their supplies for the year. Ron didn't really need too much. He was to use his brothers' robes and wand, but they had to get new books since some of the ones they had were falling apart.

Fred and George went off to to look at Zonko's and Percy went with them to ensure they stayed out of trouble, leaving Ron and Molly alone in Flourish and Blott's.

As Molly went to checkout, Ron wandered off to look at some other books. He knew he wouldn't be able to get any of them, but that didn't mean he couldn't look.

In one of the aisles, there was a small, scrawny boy with messy black hair reading. Ron caught a glimpse of what the page he was on had and made a small noise of recognition.

"Reading about Harry Potter?"

The boy tensed and slowly nodded.

"Everyone likes to talk about him," Ron said. "Kinda gets tiring after a while. I don't know about him, but I don't think being orphaned by a dark wizard is something he'd want to be reminded of constantly."

The boy cast a sidelong glance at him. "No, I don't think he would. What would you do if you met him?"

"I'd be surprised, of course. I won't lie, I wouldn't mind meeting him. But he probably has better things to do than hang out with a blood traitor."

"A what?"

Ron looked at him. He must be Muggle-raised. "Blood traitors are wizards and witches who associate with Muggles and Muggle-borns in some way. Non-magical people," he added for the other boy's benefit.

The boy considered this. "I think Harry Potter would like you all right."

Ron doubted it, but he didn't object. "My name's Ron, by the way. What's yours?"

"Uh, James."

"See you at Hogwarts, James." Ron went back to his mother, who had just finished paying.

"Who was that boy you were talking to?" she asked as she put the books into her bag.

"His name's James. Think he's a first year."

"He certainly looks pretty small," Molly said, casting an anxious glance to where the boy was walking out.

Now that she mentioned it, Ron remembered how skinny he had been. He hoped his parents didn't treat him badly.

"Come along, Ron. We need to find your brothers."

"Probably still at Zonko's," Ron muttered, but followed anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the chapters will be from Harry's perspective and hopefully longer. But I'm going to try not to focus too much on word count. If a chapter only has 600 words, it only has 600 words.


	3. Harry Who?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets her letter. And learns of a potential friend.

Not one kid wanted to be Hermione Granger's friend. She was too bossy, too ugly, too much of a know-it-all and teacher's pet.

That didn't bother her, or so she tried to convince herself. It wasn't as if she didn't try to make friends. She did. But something drove them away, whether that would be the whispers from other kids warning them to stay away from the bucktoothed weirdo, her tendency to get into debates that quickly bored them, or, more frequently as of late, the rumors of strange things that happened when she was around.

For instance, a couple older boys had cornered Hermione during break and had been taunting her. Next thing they knew, one of the boys found himself in a nearby trash bin and the other on the ground. Hermione honestly told her teachers and parents she didn't know how they ended up there, but the boys had been quick to spread word of a terrible story of her grabbing them both in a chokehold and flinging them all the way across the school. The adults at least knew that was an exaggeration, but the students believed every word and avoided Hermione even more.

Her parents were used to these strange phenomenons, but it wasn't until Hermione turned eleven they received the answer to their questions.

Hermione was a witch.

It wasn't like the films, exactly, with the green skin and evil cackles, but there was magic and there were broomsticks and cauldrons.

Hermione was thrilled and immediately accepted the invitation to the magical school of Hogwarts. She then met the deputy headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, who was to go with her to get her supplies.

As they entered the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione had the sense something extraordinary had happened.

"I shook his hand six times!"

"He remembered me!" One wizard was trembling so hard Hermione thought he'd fall over. "I still can't believe it."

"Who are they talking about?" Hermione asked McGonagall.

"I suppose Harry Potter must've come through," she replied.

"Who's that?"

Hermione's innocent question was met with stunned silence. She resisted the urge to shrink back.

"'Who's that,' she says," the shaking wizard scoffed. "You mean to tell me you don't know who Harry Potter is?"

"I only just found out about magic yesterday," Hermione stammered out.

"Ah." The wizard lost some of his scornfulness. "Apologies, Miss. Yes, Harry Potter will be starting school this year."

"Great wizard, he is," another wizard said, nodding vigorously. "But awfully small. I don't think even his father was that short at that age."

"Why do you —?"

"Come along, Miss Granger," McGonagall said before Hermione could finish her question. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to meet Potter when you board the train."

Hermione ran to catch up, secretly glad to leave behind the staring.

McGonagall took her to Gringotts, the wizarding bank, then began taking Hermione into the shops.

Hermione wished she had more time to stay in each of the shops, but McGonagall was clearly on a tight schedule and didn't dilly dally.

Someone roughly shoved past her as she was entering the Apothecary.

A boy with a pale, pointed face scowled at her. "Watch where you're going."

"Excuse me?" Hermione glared at him. "You're the one who bumped into me."

"Draco!" A man had turned back and was watching them.

The boy, Draco, sent Hermione one last glare before following. Hermione heard the man say in a carrying whisper, "Do not waste your time. Especially with someone who is clearly a...  _Muggle-born_ ."

Hermione frowned and turned to McGonagall.

"Magical children with non-magical parents," she said, having anticipated Hermione's question. "Be careful, Miss Granger. Not everyone in this world is so accepting."

So it was just like any other school. Hermione supposed she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up about leaving the prejudice behind.

"I'll remember," she said quietly.

"But there are families who will stick by your side," McGonagall went on, her tone softening. "Arthur Weasley, for instance, is known for his fondness toward anything Muggle and his children have been raised to be accepting."

Hermione brightened a little, but inside, her stomach was churning. There may be those who like her despite her lack of magical background, but what about the other aspects that isolated her? Her bossiness? Her ugliness? She couldn't change overnight.

Perhaps this Harry Potter could be her friend. She had the impression he was nice enough.

_Not that I should be getting my hopes up again_ , she told herself sharply as she and McGonagall collected her potions ingredients. For all she knew, he could be just like those other boys that picked on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for the introductions. Next up, back to Harry's perspective and on to the train.


	4. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is dropped off at King's Cross and sees a familiar face.

On the first of September, Harry checked he had everything and loaded it all in his trunk. Then he went downstairs to where Uncle Vernon was waiting.

He predictably said nothing the entire trip and Harry didn't try to initiate a conversation. They arrived and Harry went to grab his trunk only for Uncle Vernon to take it himself and put it on a trolley for him. Suspicious of this kindness, Harry followed him as he wheeled the trunk into the station.

"There you are, boy," Uncle Vernon said, grinning nastily. "Platform nine — platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

"They probably didn't need to," Harry said dryly. "It's a magical school, remember?"

The grin vanished from Uncle Vernon's face and his head swung from side to side. When it appeared no one had heard, he glowered at Harry. "Don't say such nonsense in public!" he snapped, only barely refraining from shouting.

And without so much of a good-bye, he shoved the trolley at Harry and stormed back to the car. A moment later, it was driving away.

Harry huffed out a breath. He hoped he had been right about the platform not needing to be built because he had no idea how to get on. The sooner he found it, the sooner he could get away from the people openly staring at his owl, Hedwig.

A flash of red caught his eye and he looked to see Ron, the boy he had spoken to in Flourish and Blott's. He was with his mother again, along with three older boys and a little girl who must be his sister.

"— packed with Muggles, of course —" the mother was saying.

Harry watched Ron's family bustle past. One by one, they lined up and took off at a brisk pace, disappearing into the dividing barrier between platforms nine and ten. Harry looked around. No one seemed to have noticed. How odd. They weren't exactly being inconspicuous.

Shaking his head, Harry pushed his trunk so he was directly in line with the barrier. Then, like the red-haired family moments ago, he walked forward. He half expected to crash despite seeing six other people go through with no problem and was delighted when he emerged, blinking, to see the scarlet steam engine next to the platform.

Harry began to search for a compartment, passing a round-faced boy with his grandmother. An older boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. Harry only just caught a glimpse of a long, hairy leg poking out of the box in his arms.

He found an empty compartment near the end and tried to haul his trunk up the steps, only to drop it onto his feet.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired boys he'd followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," Harry panted.

"Oi, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With their help, Harry's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Harry.

"No problem, mate."

"Happy to help."

They went to rejoin their mother, and only then did Harry wipe the sweat from his forehead. That morning, he had taken care to keep his hair over his scar, knowing it would stand out. And considering how the people at the Leaky Cauldron had acted, no one would leave him alone.

He took a seat next to the window and leaned back more comfortably. This was it, the moment he'd been waiting for.

The train whistle sounded and Ron, Fred, and George hurried onto the train. Ginny began to cry as she hugged Ron.

"Don't, Ginny," said Ron, brushing her hair out of her face. "We'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat," George added.

"George!" Molly put her hands on her hips.

"Only joking, Mum."

As the train was taking off, Ron went off to find a compartment. He found one and peered in to see a dark-haired boy reading a book. It was James. Ron opened the door. "Er, hi."

James brightened up. "Ron. Hi."

"Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full."

James shook his head and Ron sat down.

Ron looked at the book curiously. "I don't remember that being on the list," he said.

"It's not. I bought a couple extra ones that looked interesting," James replied.

"I barely touched any of mine so far. Anyway, good to see you again, James."

"Actually," James began, looking a little awkward, "I sort of lied when I told you my name. It's Harry. Harry Potter."

Harry Potter... Harry  _James_ Potter... "Oh!" Ron exclaimed, his face going warm as he remembered their first conversation. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to — what I said — I — wow."

Harry laughed. "It's all right."

"Have you really got — you know..."

Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to start asking about, but Harry took it in stride. "The scar that Voldemort gave me? Yes."

Ron flinched instinctively, then it dawned on him. "You said the name! I'd have thought you, of all people would never want to hear it."

"Can't really be scared of a name when I have barely any memory of that night," Harry pointed out.

"That makes sense." Ron changed the subject. "Heard you went to live with Muggles. What are they like?"

"They're okay. My aunt and uncle and cousin aren't, though. What about your family?" he asked abruptly.

"I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts," Ron began. "You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left — Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first."

Harry made a sympathetic face. "What does it matter what others expect? You don't have to live up to others' standards. I bet you'll do great."

Ron smiled a little. "You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

He pulled out his rat. "Percy got an owl for being made prefect, but they couldn't aff — I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

He glanced out the window, his face burning as he waited for Harry's reaction.

"I've never really had anything of my own, either," Harry said, and Ron turned back in surprise. "My cousin's the one who gets all the new stuff. I only just got his second bedroom."

_Second_ bedroom? Ron almost asked if he head him correctly when he noticed Harry's clothes for the first time. They were very baggy and much too large, which didn't make sense. After all, whenever someone talked about Harry Potter, they sometimes made remarks about how spoiled they bet he was. This didn't look anything like a spoiled Harry Potter. And there was his size to think about...

"Besides," Harry went on, "I didn't even know about my parents until I got my supplies."

"Wait a minute, you didn't know about your own parents?" Ron gaped. "But — what about your aunt and uncle? They knew, surely."

Harry shook his head. "Well, my aunt knew. But I asked once and she said they died in a car accident after drinking and that's how I got the scar."

"A car accident? No!" Ron was liking this aunt and uncle of Harry's less and less. "They were really brave. My parents knew them a bit."

"Really?" Harry perked up. "What do you know?"

A pang shot through Ron at the eagerness in his green eyes. A stranger knew more about someone's parents than their own child. But he made the best of it. "Well, I heard your dad was on the Quidditch team."

"Quidditch?"

"A really popular sport here in the wizarding world." And Ron went on telling Harry what he remembered about Harry's parents, which he admitted wasn't a lot and probably not completely accurate. But by the time he was finished with even the little bits, Harry looked much more intrigued.

When a woman came by around half past twelve, Harry didn't hesitate to share what he bought with Ron.

"You don't have to," Ron said, feeling his face heat up again.

Harry faltered. "Friends share, right?"

Ron couldn't deny the food looked much more appetizing than his corned beef sandwich. "They do."

Harry grinned and handed him a pastry.

Later, a round-faced boy knocked on their compartment door, looking tearful. "Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"I read this spell that could help," Harry said, jumping to his feet. He took out his wand. "What's your toad's name?"

"Trevor," the boy said.

"Accio Trevor."

A moment later, a large brown shape came hurtling into Harry's hand.

"Trevor!" The round-faced boy looked very relieved as Harry handed him his toad. "Thank you."

"You're welcome..."

"Neville."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Harry, and this is Ron."

"Thank you again." Neville left in higher spirits.

Ron had been silently gaping at Harry ever since the toad had appeared. "That was brilliant!"

"Thanks. I didn't really think it would work, honestly. The spell doesn't normally work on animate objects, the book said."

"The risk paid off, then," Ron said admirably.

The compartment door opened again. This time, it was a bushy-haired girl with large front teeth. "I saw what happened," she said. "Have you tried that spell before?"

"No, why?"

"First time? That was really good," the girl said, impressed. "I've tried a few spells myself before. They've all worked. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

“Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Are you really? I've read a lot about you. You're in  _ Modern Magical History _ and  _ The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _ and  _ Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century _ ."

"I noticed," Harry said. "But I hadn't really looked into them much."

"Can't blame you. Some of it sounded like a bunch of rubbish. Claiming you went on all these grand adventures before you could even talk. But other than that, they're a very interesting read. Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, although I'm a bit unsure of where I want to go. Gryffindor sounds all right, so does Ravenclaw. But they all sound great."

She said this all very fast; Ron blinked a few times trying to keep up. Harry looked like he was overwhelmed too.

Hermione seemed to notice for she backed away. "Anyway, you two better change." Her tone had become slightly awkward. "I expect we'll be there soon."

She left before either boy could respond.

"Rather chatty, that one," Ron remarked.

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked.

"Gryffindor," Ron said, going glum again. "Same with Mum and Dad."

"Is it tradition for all members of a family to go to the same house?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much. The Malfoys are all Slytherin as far as I know. Can't see that ever changing."

"Well, I don't really care what house I'm in," Harry decided. "I just want to do well."

"So do I."

They fell silent for a moment.

"Can you tell me a little more about Quidditch?" asked Harry, and he listened with rapt attention as Ron explained the sport.

Before Harry knew it, he was standing in a chamber off the Great Hall awaiting for Professor McGonagall's return so they could be Sorted.

"Do you know how they sort us?" Harry asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think," Ron replied. "Fred said it hurts a lot, but he was probably joking."

"A test?" Hermione repeated from where she stood behind them. She closed her eyes as if by sheer will power she would remember the few spells she had learned.

"Hermione, relax," Harry said. "I hardly think they'd expect us to know any spells."

Several people behind them suddenly screamed.

About twenty ghosts had just materialized through the walls. They seemed to be arguing.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —" one of them was saying.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Harry had a feeling this was rehearsed to some degree. There was no way they didn't know there would be first years there. 

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

Hermione nodded vigorously, but Harry could see most of the others didn't look quite as eager.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. I wonder where the trio will go /sarcasm.


	5. A Surprising Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first years get Sorted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rowling had admitted to not being good at math, and the vagueness and inconsistency in the number of students that attend show this. So I'm going to go with the estimation of 600 students, which means there's roughly 20 new students per house. Which gives me an excuse to bring in my OCs because where else am I going to put them? In an original story? I wish.

There was no other way to describe it; the Great Hall was magnificent. Thousands of candles lit the vast space and the ceiling was velvety black with stars.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside," Harry heard Hermione say. "I read about it in  _ Hogwarts, A History _ ."

Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool was a pointed witch's hat. A rip opened like a mouth and began to sing.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," McGonagall said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

Cheers erupted from a table as Hannah ran over. Harry winced slightly at the loudness.

As a boy with dark hair, Obsidian Amsel, went up next, Harry looked around at the tables. He saw Ron's brothers sitting at what he guessed was Gryffindor. The dark-haired boy went to a table on the opposite side, Slytherin, where one would make their real friends according to the hat.

But Harry already had one. Or was it two? Hermione was friendly enough. But she said Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were the houses she was interested in, and while he knew he could have friends outside his own house, it would limit the time they could spend together.

Yet when it was her time, the hat didn't call for either. "SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherins looked stunned as Hermione headed for their table.

A few more people went up, including Neville Longbottom, who became a Gryffindor.

"Malfoy, Draco!"

A boy with blond hair and a pale, pointed face swaggered up. Harry was instantly reminded of Dudley by his mannerism.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat called, barely even touching his head. Malfoy went to sit down between two large boys, his lip curling slightly upon seeing Hermione, who didn't look happy to see him either.

There weren't many people now. A pair of twins were Sorted into Ravenclaw and Gryffindor respectively. After "Perks, Sally-Anne," Harry was called.

There was a sudden increase in whispers, but Harry didn't look around as he stepped forward and sat down on the stool, the hat sliding over his eyes.

"Hm," the hat said. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. Perhaps Slytherin will do? No objections? Very well. SLYTHERIN!"

Stunned silence met the hat's shout. Then Ron began clapping. The Slytherins joined in, looking astonished but pleased. The Gryffindors gaped as Harry took a seat next to Hermione, disregarding Malfoy when he gestured to the chair next to him.

"We didn't get Potter!" Fred and George bawled, dramatically sobbing into each other's shoulders. One of them stopped for a moment to give Harry a thumbs up before continuing his sobbing. Harry snickered and turned back to watch the rest of the Sorting.

Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw, then it was Ron. He was up for quite some time.

"A Hatstall," Hermione whispered in surprise.

"A what?" said Harry.

"When they've been up for over five minutes."

Harry straightened up at that. Some first years had taken longer to be Sorted than others, yes, but he was sure they didn't take five minutes.

At last, the hat's brim opened. "SLYTHERIN!" it shouted.

Silence reigned once more, but Harry greeted Ron warmly as he sank into a chair. "What do you know? You're the first Slytherin in your family!"

Ron grinned. "I could have gone to any of the houses, but it eventually picked Slytherin."

There was a scoff from Malfoy, but Harry and Ron had turned to see the last person, Blaise Zabini, get Sorted. It only took a few seconds for the hat to announce "SLYTHERIN!" and he was walking over to sit next to Malfoy.

Albus Dumbledore got to his feet, beaming as he surveyed the students.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

The plates in front of the students suddenly filled with food.

"Is he mad?" Harry muttered as he helped himself.

"A bit," said Ron. "But he's a brilliant wizard."

"Of course you'd say that, Weasley," Malfoy sneered.

"And you are?" Harry said, finally looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." He gestured to the two large boys on either side of him like bodyguards. "And this is Crabbe and Goyle. You'll soon see here in Slytherin only the best wizarding families come out on top. You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand.

Harry didn't even look at it. "I can think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

Malfoy retracted his hand, his face going pink. But before he could say anything else, a ghost floated over and stopped next to him. His robes were stained with silver blood.

His eyes slid over Harry's forehead. "The famous Harry Potter in the House of Slytherin, hm?"

"That's right," said Harry.

"We shall see how you fare, then," the ghost said. His eyes moved to Ron and Hermione and if Harry wasn't mistaken, there was a flicker of disgust as he regarded them.

"Are you the Bloody Baron?" Hermione asked.

"Indeed I am," the ghost replied, looking mildly impressed she knew.

The remains of the food vanished, and desserts took their place.

Harry was helping himself to treacle tart when he felt a sharp pain through his scar. He looked up locked eyes with one of the teachers, a man with greasy black hair. After a moment, the teacher looked away.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, having seen him wince.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

The desserts disappeared in the same fashion as the main course, and Dumbledore got to his feet once more.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you."

Harry listened carefully, blinking in confusion at the warning of the third-floor corridor. "He does realize there will be students going there just to disobey his orders, right?" he said, thinking of Ron's brothers.

Ron shrugged. "If he doesn't tell us at all, the blame's on him," he pointed out.

With Dumbledore's speech coming at an end, the prefects began herding the first years out of the Great Hall.

The first year Slytherins followed their prefects through a door positioned right from the Entrance Hall.

The common room looked eerily like a dungeon and had a green tinge that enhanced the green furniture throughout. The walls were decorated with tapestries of medieval Slytherins and their adventures.

The prefects waited until everyone had filed in before speaking.

"Hi, everyone," the female prefect said. "My name is Gemma Farley, and this is Jackson Calder." She gestured to the male prefect. "Tomorrow at breakfast, we will hand out timetables. For now, you will find your dorms. Boys will follow Jackson. Girls, after me."

"There are five beds in each dorm," Calder explained as the boys and girls separated. "You may choose where you get to sleep, but unless there's a serious issue between you and another student, there is no switching dorms, so choose wisely. Good night."

The Slytherins murmured in reply and began splitting up to go to their new dorms.

"Come on." Ron nudged Harry. "I want to see what the dorm looks like."

"Not that one," Harry said as Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all went to one dorm.

"Good call. How about that one?" Ron pointed to the one adjacent.

Harry shrugged and they entered.

Each of the five beds had silk green hangings around them. More medieval tapestries covered the walls, and listening closely, Harry could hear the lapping of the lake water against the window.

Amsel and Zabini had followed them, along with a third boy with brown hair. He was the only one who seemed to have any energy after today, humming under his breath as he picked a bed.

The five boys changed into their pajamas and were soon asleep.


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first two weeks weren't horrible. Although Draco Malfoy certainly seemed to be making an effort to make them so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Gringotts break-in happens earlier in this fic, but still on the same day Harry gets his supplies. Otherwise, the dates wouldn't have matched up.

When Harry awoke the next morning, he was momentarily confused. This wasn't Dudley's old bedroom. Or even the cupboard. Then he looked over to see a flash of red and it all came back to him.

He was at Hogwarts, the magical school his relatives had refused to tell him about. This was his chance to prove he wasn't a waste of space or a freak.

Ron yawned and sat up as Harry began changing into his school robes.

"Morning," said Harry.

"Hey." Ron didn't sound quite as cheerful and Harry paused.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just that Percy will probably have written to our parents that I'm in Slytherin."

"They won't be... angry, will they?" Harry asked, thinking of how loud his uncle got when he was in a bad mood.

"I hope not."

The other three boys were also getting up. The energetic one that had been humming the night before started chatting with Amsel; Harry had a feeling they knew each other already. Zabini didn't say anything, although whether that was because it was early or he wasn't very social Harry didn't know.

Zabini was the first to finish getting dressed and left without a word. Harry and Ron followed soon after.

Ron's brothers were already eating at the Gryffindor table but paused when they saw Ron. The twins grinned at Ron and Percy nodded to him.

"I think your brothers are okay," Harry said, and Ron relaxed.

Only to tense up again when an owl flew in and dropped an envelope in front of him as he was sitting down.

"It's not a Howler," said Ron, looking slightly relieved. But it wasn't until he had shakily opened it that his expression loosened into a smile.

"I take it it's all good?"

"Yeah. Mum's surprised, but she's really happy for me. Same with Dad." He put the letter aside and eagerly dug into his food.

Hermione came slinking in seconds later. She sat down several seats away and didn't look at them. Her bushy hair fell forward, hiding her face, but Harry recognized the tension in her shoulders and her posture that begged for everyone to leave her alone.

Remembering the Bloody Baron's barely concealed disdain of her the night before, Harry wondered if there was something he was missing.

"Do some people have a problem with Muggle-borns?" he asked Ron.

Ron took a moment to answer. He swallowed the piece of steak he had bitten into and leaned in. "Some purebloods do. They think they're better because they aren't 'tainted' with Muggle blood."

"Tainted?" Harry echoed in disgust.

Ron nodded, looking unhappy himself. "Tainted. They even have have a word for it, it's terrible. Not all of them are like that, thank goodness. I know the Longbottoms are okay, and my dad actually works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

"What does he do?"

"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house."

"That sounds interesting," said Harry.

Jackson Calder came walking by. "Here you go, Potter, Weasley. Your timetables."

"Thank you." Harry began scanning it.

"History of Magic is first," Ron commented. "Lovely. It's taught by a ghost, Professor Binns. Percy warned me he's very boring."

"Lovely," Harry repeated, rolling his eyes. "At least we can get his class over with sooner."

Classes, as Harry quickly found out, were almost as difficult to find than the actual workload. The hundred and forty-two staircases moved on their own at different times and even some of the doors weren't actually doors. Then there was Peeves, whose life goal — death goal may be more accurate — seemed to be wreaking havoc on the students, particularly the first years. More than once, he'd drop a wastebasket over someone's head or pretend to take their nose. The energetic boy, Jayson Sage, stomped into the Great Hall for lunch one day with so much chalk in his hair it was almost completely white. Amsel went to help him, only to cough and splutter as Sage shook his hair out like a dog.

Harry and Ron only just managed to get to classes on time. But at least they weren't the only ones struggling. Crabbe and Goyle came running into Transfiguration nearly ten minutes late, interrupting McGonagall's lecture and earning a deduction of five points each.

But Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to win them back, plus an extra five when they each succeeded — to varying degrees — in changing their matchstick into a needle. Hermione straightened her back proudly when McGonagall praised their work, but her expression faltered when Pansy Parkinson sneered at her as soon as McGonagall turned away.

Double Potions with Gryffindor was on Friday. Professor Snape, who happened to be the teacher that was looking at Harry at the feast, had often given Harry looks that suggested he was less than fond of him, so Harry was not looking forward to meeting him in person. At least that would be the only time they really had to see each other.

Hedwig came flying in with a note from Hagrid saying he wanted Harry to come to his place later that afternoon. Harry agreed out of curiosity.

As soon as Snape gave his introductory speech — in which he insulted practically every student he had ever taught — he rounded on Harry.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Taken aback, Harry blinked at him. Hermione's hand shot into the air.

"Tut tut — fame clearly isn't everything," said Snape when Harry hadn't answered.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

This time, Harry was ready. "In the stomach of a goat."

Surprise flickered in Snape's black eyes.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione started to raise her hand, but then she paused and glanced at Harry curiously.

"There isn't," Harry answered. "They're the same plant. And to answer your first question, they make the Draught of Living Death, a sleeping potion."

Snape gazed at him for a long moment. "Correct." His eyes flitted to the other students. "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

The students scrambled for their quills and parchment.

"Two points to Slytherin," Snape said grudgingly over the noise.

Potions thankfully went by more smoothly after that. In fact, Harry found himself enjoying the class, which was silent save for the occasional bubbling of liquid and clinking of tools being put to use.

It would have been better if Snape wasn't prowling around the room, looking for something to criticize. The only person he seemed to genuinely like was Malfoy, actually praising him for his perfectly stewed horn slugs while ignoring Hermione's slugs, which Harry thought looked much better. Malfoy puffed his chest out smugly.

Harry rolled his eyes and then stiffened. Neville was holding a handful of porcupine quills, poised to drop them into his partner's cauldron. Which was still on the fire. "Wait, Neville, don't!"

His warning came too late. A second later, a cloud of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the air. The cauldron melted into a blob and the liquid began pouring all over the floor and Neville, causing boils to creep up his limbs.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled, and Harry jumped at the volume. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered.

"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape spat at the sandy-haired boy that had only just avoided getting drenched. He whirled around to face Harry and opened his mouth. Then he snapped it close and turned away.

After that class was finally over with, Malfoy said in a carrying whisper, "If Potter were a true Slytherin, he would've left Longbottom to suffer alone."

A few other Slytherins laughed, sending Harry jeering looks he ignored.

At half past three, Harry and Ron headed to Hagrid's. After dealing with Malfoy and Snape, Harry was glad to be with someone friendlier. As Hagrid and Ron turned the conversation to dragons, Harry let his eyes wander. They landed on a clipping from the newspaper.

_ GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST _

"Hey, Hagrid, didn't this happen the same day we went to Diagon Alley?"

"Oh, that," said Hagrid. "Yeah, it was." But he quickly changed the subject and sent them off with rock cakes.

Flying lessons began the following Thursday. It had been one of the few things Harry had really been looking forward to, but Neville got hurt and Madam Hooch had to take him away, stalling the lesson.

Malfoy laughed as they disappeared. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Parvati Patil snapped.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Parkinson sneered. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

Harry rolled his eyes. Something red on the ground caught his eye and he stooped to pick it up. "Isn't this Neville's?"

"That's his Remembrall," said the sandy-haired boy that had been Neville's partner in Potions, Seamus Finnigan.

"You better give it to him, then," Harry said, holding it out.

"Or," said Malfoy, swiping it out of his hand before Finnigan could take it, "we could leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect."

"We? I'm not joining in on your stupid scheme," Harry snapped.

"Yeah, give it here!" Finnigan lunged forward, but Malfoy mounted his broom and flew up out of reach.

"Come and get it!" he taunted.

Harry didn't move. "Don't," he said to Finnigan, who had grabbed his boom. "Let him get in trouble by himself."

Finnigan lowered his broom, but he was scowling up at Malfoy, who was still taunting them.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Hooch had come back. "Ten points from Slytherin! Get down!"

Malfoy lowered himself sulkily, glaring at Harry as if it were his fault he was in trouble.

The Gryffindors were looking at Harry with renewed awe.

Even some of the Slytherins were impressed. Not all of them genuinely liked Malfoy despite what their public appearances may show, but with Lucius Malfoy being so high up, they didn't want to be on their bad side.

During dinner, Sage and Amsel sat down with Harry and Ron. They were quite friendly, and Harry found himself liking them more and more.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I think we're gonna get along just fine."

"So are we on a first name basis now?" Sage asked, watching the gravy drip off his fork rather intently but not eating it.

"Sounds fine to me," Ron said.

"You can call me Sid," Amsel said. "My friends do. And so does this idiot."

Jayson looked affronted. "Hey."

Harry and Ron laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I hadn’t given Sid a last name until this fic. So I guess inserting him and Jayson was a good idea after all.
> 
> And I didn't plan for the trio to really have many friends outside each other — actually, I don't have much planned at all! — but then I thought, doesn't mean they can't at least be on good terms with others.
> 
> Next chapter: Hermione's POV


	7. Troll in the Bathroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's first few weeks haven't been quite as nice as Harry and Ron's.

Hermione couldn't help but envy the easy friendship between Harry and his dormmates. True, they weren't mean to her, but Hermione still felt disconnected, especially when Ron and Jayson explained the term Mudblood and the divide between purebloods and Muggle-borns.

It only grew worse as Hermione, eager to please the teachers as always, worked hard to get the spells right.

"Teacher's pet," Parkinson whispered loudly to a group of Slytherin girls. "But what else can you expect from a bucktoothed Mudblood?"

The girls laughed.

Hermione was used to the sneers thrown her way, but that didn't make their impact any less hurtful. If only she had a friend in her dorm, it might have eased some of the pain. Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis didn't seem to hold the same disdain for Hermione as many others did, but they also didn't seek out her company. There was unfortunately no fifth girl in their dorm, or perhaps that was fortunate since they could have been just as nasty as Parkinson.

In Charms, Hermione and Parkinson were paired together to try and levitate the feather. She didn't know which one of them hated it more.

Parkinson grew impatient and snapped at Hermione when she tried to correct her. And when Hermione succeeded in floating the feather, Parkinson's anger spilled over.

"You think you're so great,  Mudblood ," she snapped as they were walking out. "Well, you're not! You never will be!"

Hermione flinched, suddenly aware of all eyes on her. Feeling her eyes starting to well up, she shoved past Parkinson and hurried off. She didn't know where she was going, only that she had to get away from the snarling faces of her housemates, the loud whispers that had followed her from day one, and the sidelong glances that were filled with disgust.

She found herself in a bathroom, not even trying to wipe her face. Greengrass knocked on her stall, concern in her voice, but all Hermione could think was how Greengrass had stood by pretending she didn't exist. She yelled for her to go away, and Greengrass retreated.

After a while, Hermione's sobs subsided enough for her to open her stall door and walk over to the sink. Her eyes were red, but Hermione didn't have the energy to do much more than wash her face.

Someone knocked on the door. Hermione looked over, frowning. Why would someone feel the need to knock when they could just come in? It wasn't like she was in the stall anymore.

"Who is it?"

"It's us," said Ron. "Me and Harry."

"Oh." That was why. "Leave me alone. I'll be out in a moment."

"You've been in there all afternoon," Harry pointed out.

Hermione didn't answer. Maybe they'd go away if she ignored them.

But to her shock, the door opened and Harry walked in.

"This is the girl's bathroom!" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Comforting a friend," Ron said, having followed barely a second later. "Jay said you were here."

"Oh," she repeated. "Well, you didn't have to. I'll be fine. I'm used to dealing with people like Parkinson."

"Parkinson's just jealous," Ron said, waving a hand. "She thinks she's so much better because she's a pureblood, even though that has nothing to do with your ability. You're much better than she is."

"This isn't going to stop," Harry added. "If she sees she got to you, she'll be even more determined to make your life miserable."

"Yeah, you have to show them!" Ron's eyes were bright. "I already have a few ideas of what to do."

"Ron." Hermione shook her head, but she couldn't stop her lips from turning upward. "You're going to get in trouble."

"I'll take my chances." Suddenly, Ron stiffened. "Do you smell that?"

Hermione sniffed, almost retching as the foul stench hit her nose. And then they heard a low grunting and heavy footsteps coming closer. A gigantic creature stood, its lumpy body silhouetted in the doorway.

"That's a troll," Hermione whispered shakily. "I've read a little about them."

"We're trapped," Harry muttered.

The troll had just noticed them. Letting out a roar, it raised the heavy wooden club the students had only just noticed.

"I'll distract it, you two run!" Ron said.

Harry grabbed Hermione and pulled her aside as Ron took out his wand.

"Oi, pea-brain!"

The troll stomped toward him. Harry and Hermione immediately squeezed past it.

"We can't just leave him!" Hermione said.

"We won't." Harry removed his wand. "Brace yourself. Accio club!"

They both had to dodge as the club came hurtling toward them. It skidded on the floor and hit the wall next to the door.

The troll looked down at its hands in confusion. Then, deciding Ron had done something, it roared and took a step forward. The bathroom seemed to shudder as its foot slammed into the ground.

Neither Harry nor Hermione saw what Ron did, but suddenly the troll was howling in agony, staggering around the bathroom. They caught a glimpse of its eyes, which had swollen shut. Unable to see where it was putting its feet, the troll slipped on the wet floor and came crashing down with a heavy thud that sent another shudder through the bathroom.

Ron carefully picked his way past.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. You?"

"We're okay."

Footsteps pounded outside. Seconds later, Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell appeared. Quirrell took one look at the troll and sank down onto the nearest toilet with a whimper.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" Professor McGonagall demanded. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Hermione swallowed. "They were looking for me," she said. "I —" She shot a glance toward Snape and fell silent. Her past teachers never cared, why would he? Especially seeing how he clearly favored Malfoy, who treated her just as badly as Parkinson. At least she didn't have to share a dorm with him.

Harry surprised her again.

"Pansy Parkinson upset her. She called her a Mudblood and told her she'd never be great."

Hermione thought she saw Snape shift, but when she glanced at him, he seemed unmoved.

Ron also spoke up. "She's been treating Hermione terribly from day one." There was a hint of an apology in his voice, and Hermione acknowledged it with a small nod. Honestly, he and Harry have put in more effort than the others have, which was more than she could have hoped for.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" McGonagall asked Hermione.

"I thought I could handle it by myself," Hermione answered in a small voice. It was how she had always dealt with bullies.

"Well." McGonagall was lost for words. "Your Head of House is there for a reason, Miss Granger. I'm sure Professor Snape is willing to listen if you go to him." She gave Snape a hard stare. "Now, all three of you run along. And five points each to Mr. Potter and Weasley."

"Yes, Professor."

The three slipped past and headed to the dungeons.

Hermione paused outside the dungeon. "You're right. They aren't going to stop."

"Leave them to me," Harry said grimly. "It's about time someone spoke up about this."

Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were sitting in the middle of the common room with many of the Slytherins surrounding them. All of them had plates piled with food in their laps.

"Well, look who decided to join us," Parkinson sneered.

Harry walked right up to her. "Listen to me, Parkinson, because I'm not going to repeat myself. You leave Hermione alone and you just might go home intact."

"Are you threatening me?"

"For someone who claims to be so smart, you'd think you'd know the answer is yes."

Parkinson flushed angrily. "You think you're so amazing,  _ Potter _ . Just because you're famous —"

"Wonderful comeback, Parkinson," Harry said. "Bring up my fame even though I really don't care for it. So you can shut up and mind your own business. The same goes to the rest of you," he added, his gaze sweeping around at the rest of the Slytherins.

"When my father hears about this —" Malfoy began.

"I'll tell him myself," Harry said, swinging around to face him. "Maybe I can meet him. You always speak so highly of him, I'm sure he's a delight to be around."

Malfoy scowled.

With his piece done, Harry returned to his friends.

Around him, the students began murmuring among themselves, shooting glances at Harry.

"You didn't have to do that," Hermione said, her head lowered.

"If I didn't, no one else would have. Except for Ron, of course," Harry added.

"Well, thanks. Both of you." Hermione was silent for a moment. "Hungry?"

"You bet," Ron said as his stomach growled.

They grabbed plates and moved to join Jayson and Sid.

"What happened? Did you see the troll?"

"Unfortunately," Ron said.

"You don't look hurt," Sid commented, looking them over.

"We were lucky," Hermione said. "Harry summoned the troll's club and Ron blinded it with a Conjunctivitis Curse."

Jayson looked mightily impressed as he gazed at Ron. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

The trio laughed and dug in to their food.

At one point, Harry realized Jayson was still staring at them. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just you three. A Potter, a Weasley, and a Muggle-born in Slytherin. That's a pretty odd combination, don't you think?"

Harry exchanged a glance with Ron and Hermione and shrugged. "There's a first for everything, I guess," he said, and Hermione never felt as included as she did now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but first year is almost always the most boring to write about for me, which is probably why I got over it so quickly in my other fics. Like it needs to be included at least somewhat to introduce characters, but after that, meh.
> 
> Anyway, the golden trio is now officially complete.


	8. Nicolas Flamel, Christmas, Dragons, Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is Nicolas Flamel? And what to do with a baby dragon?

November brought with it the chill of winter. Everywhere they looked seemed to be tinted with gray. Hagrid spent every morning defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field.

The trio's friendship had grown since the troll incident. They kept an eye out for each other, and the taunts subsided. People like Malfoy and Parkinson still sneered at them, but they had the sense not to antagonize them for now at least, especially since the notice that bullying was not to be tolerated appeared a couple mornings later.

The day before the first Quidditch match, they were all huddled outside in the courtyard looking over spells. Hermione had conjured a bright blue fire and put it in a jam jar to keep them from freezing.

Professor Snape crossed the yard. He saw the trio and paused as if he wanted to say something. Then he seemed to decide it wasn't worth it and continued walking.

"Did you notice Snape's leg?" Harry said, watching him go. "I could have sworn I saw blood on it."

"That would explain why he was limping," Hermione said thoughtfully. "But what could he have been doing to get hurt in the first place?"

"Maybe it has to do with the third floor," Ron suggested in a low voice. "Remember what Hagrid said when we went to visit him?"

They had taken Hermione to meet Hagrid a few days ago and Hagrid had accidentally let it slip that there was a three-headed dog there.

"Right, Fluffy." Harry wrinkled his nose. Who in their right mind would call a vicious beast Fluffy?

They were too curious to leave it alone, so after the Quidditch match, in which Slytherin won, they went down to Hagrid, who didn't seem to be taking Gryffindor's loss to heart.

"We saw that Snape was bitten by Fluffy," Harry said.

"Oh?" Hagrid said in what should had been a clueless tone. "Well, Fluffy can get a bit lonesome. He probably just wanted to play."

"I would, too," Ron agreed, "if I had been guarding a forbidden corridor all term."

"Well..."

"And whatever it's guarding must be pretty important," Hermione added.

"Now see here!" Hagrid said. "You're meddling in things that don't concern you. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, and you forget what it's guarding, that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel —"

He cut himself off, but the damage was done.

"Nicolas Flamel... I know I've heard that name before somewhere." Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"Your memory's better than mine," said Ron, whose attention was more on his essay than the mysterious Nicolas Flamel.

Harry shivered and pulled his cloak over him more tightly. It was mid-December and snow had fallen that morning, sending the already low temperature plummeting like a stone. It was worse in the Slytherin common room, and although it did have a fire, it didn't stop the most outer edges from freezing.

Hermione came walking over and set down her bag. From its depths, she pulled out several books.

"Where did you get those?" Ron asked, putting his quill down to take a closer look.

"The Restricted Section," Hermione replied.

Harry blinked. "I'm sorry, did you just say —?"

"The Restricted Section, yes." Hermione didn't even look at them, just began perusing the first one. "Don't worry, I'll sneak back in and put these back before they notice."

"You  _snuck_ in?" Ron said, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione smiled at him but didn't answer.

On Christmas Day, Harry was delightfully surprised to see he had presents. The first was a wooden flute from Hagrid. His aunt and uncle had sent him a fifty-pence piece, which he gave to a fascinated Ron.

"I think I know who that ones from," he said, nodding toward a lumpy parcel. "My mum. I told her you didn't expect any presents and wanted to — you know — get you something."

Harry, who had never asked for much in his life, grinned and opened the parcel. Ron groaned.

"She's made you a Weasley sweater. Every year, she makes us one, and mine's always maroon."

"You don't like maroon?" Harry said, opening the box of fudge Mrs. Weasley had sent and trying a piece. It was very tasty.

"No. I've always preferred orange. Like the Chudley Cannons. It's my favorite Quidditch team."

Harry nodded thoughtfully as he continued to the rest of his presents. Hermione had sent him a large box of Chocolate Frogs, which he put away for later. Jayson had wrapped his present in purple because he thought using house colors like many other people did was predictable and boring. The last parcel was very light and contained a shiny, silvery cloth.

"It's an invisibility cloak," Ron said in a hushed voice. "Who's it from?"

Harry fished around and a note fell out. He read it. "It doesn't say. Come on, I'm starving."

He stowed the cloak away in his trunk, and they walked out.

Ron's brothers were already down in the Great Hall, each wearing a sweater.

"Hey, look — Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!" George said.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," Fred added, peering more closely. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

Harry couldn't see why Malfoy was so against the Weasleys; they were much nicer and friendlier and accepted Harry and Ron being in Slytherin. Even Percy was okay. He may be a bit pompous, but Harry could see why; living with Fred and George couldn't be easy.

A very tired but content Harry and Ron headed back to their dorm later that night.

Ron fell asleep almost instantly, but Harry was still very wide awake. He thought about the invisibility cloak and realized he could sneak into the Restricted Section of the library. But then he remembered that Hermione had done so without one and pushed the thought away.

Thankfully, they didn't need to risk the Restricted Section anytime soon. Harry was eating a Chocolate Frog and looking at the card with disinterest. That disinterest changed faster than the speed of light when he read the back.

"Ron, Hermione, look at this! 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel!'"

Hermione gasped. "Stay here!" She sprinted to the girls' dorms and came back moments later with an enormous old book.

"I never thought to look in here! I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

Even Harry, as much as he loved reading, couldn't exactly call a book this size light, but he didn't speak as Hermione flipped through the pages.

"I knew it! I knew it! Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

"He must have asked Dumbledore to keep it safe!" Ron said, blue eyes bright.

Harry was reading the passage. "A stone that transforms any metal into pure gold. No wonder Dumbledore had it moved. Anyone would want it."

Harry fell onto his bed with a long sigh.

"Did Hermione try to make a revision table for you again?" Jayson asked from where he sat crisscross on his own bed.

"No."

“What's up?"

"Er..." How was Harry supposed to explain a freaking dragon?

"It's not illegal, is it?"

Harry looked up to see if he was joking, but the expression on Jayson's face was quite serious. "Er..." he repeated.

"Never mind." Jayson stood up abruptly and headed for the door. "If it's illegal, I do not want to be involved."

"Hagrid bought a baby dragon."

Jayson landed next to him, causing the bed to shudder. "What kind?"

"Norwegian Ridgeback. Name's Norbert."

"No one else knows about it, do they? Well, besides Ron and Hermione."

"Malfoy knows."

Jayson's eyebrows shot skyward. "That's why he's been so quiet lately."

Harry nodded and let his face fall back onto the bed. "Ron's brother Charlie is going to take Norbert off our hands on Saturday," he said, voice muffled.

Jayson sat there for a moment longer, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Then he reached over and poked Harry's shoulder. "How can I help?"

"What?" Harry lifted his head.

"How can I help?" Jayson's blue eyes shone earnestly. "Hermione taught me this nifty little trick and Ron was showing me —"

"No, it's fine," Harry broke in. Ron may not have as much as time for light reading as Hermione did, but the things he picked up were just as intriguing. "I don't want to drag you into this."

Jayson looked disappointed for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm behind on homework, anyway."

Considering how late he stayed up the night before it was due, Harry could believe that.

It had just hit midnight on Saturday when Harry and Hermione finally arrived at the tower Charlie said his friends would meet them at. Ron had unfortunately been unable to come due to Norbert biting his hand. They arrived ten minutes later and successfully rigged up the harness around Norbert before leaving.

Relieved, Harry threw the cloak back over him and Hermione and led the way back, this time without a thrashing dragon to worry about.

They reached the dungeon with no trouble and stepped inside to come to a puzzling sight.

Draco Malfoy was lying on the floor face-first by the fireplace. There was no one around that Harry could see, but he was in no mood to check. He and Hermione separated to their dorms without a word.

It was only once Harry slid into bed did he allow himself to relax fully. They did it. By some miracle, they did it. And Jayson didn't have to risk getting in trouble by meddling with — no, wait.

Harry turned. He could only just make out the gleam in Jayson's eyes. Jayson grinned but didn't speak, just rolled over and wriggled into a more comfortable position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone ought to wake Draco up. (It's not going to be me, though.)


	9. Quirrell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One problem down, many exams to go.

With the issue of Norbert out of the way, the trio could focus on the Philosopher's Stone. But it wasn't easy with the upcoming exams; Hermione couldn't concentrate on anything else and was driving everyone mad with her constant fretting.

One day, Harry overheard Tracey mutter to Daphne, "And we were all on her for her blood status!"

Malfoy was furious he had failed to get Harry caught with the dragon, but he didn't seem to realize why or how. So Jayson was safe from the new wave of resentment, but the trio wasn't.

He seemed more determined than ever to get them on the professors' bad side, uncaring of the no-bullying policy, which barely made a difference when it came to him. When they were the same corridor, Malfoy would taunt the trio hoping to get a rise out of them. It almost didn't work, but then Malfoy said something about Harry's dead parents and Ron lunged at him. Only Harry and Sid's hold on him stopped him from breaking Malfoy's nose. But it was enough for Snape to give Ron detention and an excuse to be more disdainful toward Harry than usual. Neither Sid nor Malfoy faced repercussions, Sid because Snape had nothing against him and Malfoy because he had conveniently not heard the taunts mere meters away.

About a week before exams, Harry was walking back from the library when he heard whimpering coming from a classroom.

"No — no — not again, please —"

A second voice spoke, but Harry was too far away to distinguish it properly.

"All right — all right —"

Quirrell rushed out of the room, not even noticing Harry, and strode in the opposite direction.

Harry peeked inside. The room was empty, but he saw a door ajar on the other side. Whoever Quirrell had been talking to must've gone through, although Harry hadn't been able to recognize the other voice. But something made the hairs on the back of his neck raise. He couldn't place the feeling, but it sent him running back to the dungeon and telling Ron and Hermione about it.

"But you didn't see anyone?" Hermione checked.

"No, but there had to have been someone with him," Harry insisted.

"Maybe we should tell Professor Dumbledore," Ron suggested.

"And risk getting in trouble?" Hermione said.

"Better to get in trouble than be dead," Ron pointed out, and Hermione reluctantly agreed.

It was pure luck Dumbledore passed them in an otherwise deserted corridor the next day. Or maybe it wasn't; Harry did get the impression Dumbledore was at least close to omnipresent.

"Professor, thank goodness we found you!"

"The school's in trouble, sir!"

"Someone's gonna break in!"

Their words were barely discernible, and the headmaster raised a hand to silence them. "Please. I ask only one of you speak at a time. Harry?"

"The Philosopher's Stone, sir," Harry said. "I know we shouldn't know about it, but please, listen. We think it's in danger — I mean, we don't have a lot of proof, but with the Gringotts break-in, and Hagrid mentioned he was talking to this stranger who was very interested in three-headed dogs —"

"Someone was threatening Quirrell," Ron broke in.

Dumbledore took in their worried faces. "Professor Quirrell, you say?"

"Yes, sir." Harry nodded. "Does he know about the Stone?"

"He must." Dumbledore looked grave. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. You may go. And whatever you do, do not meddle any further. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore swept off without another word.

Ron let out a gusty sigh. "That could've gone worse."

"Oh, I hope he gets to the bottom of it," Hermione fretted as they walked off.

"I'm sure he will," Ron said breezily. "With Dumbledore here, no one, not even You-Know-Who would dare to attack."

Harry looked at Ron. "You-Know-Who is scared of Dumbledore?"

Ron nodded. "Why?"

“Nothing. I just didn't realize.”

But the statement stuck with Harry all throughout the rest of the exams. Then after the exams, Professor Snape told Harry the headmaster wished to speak with him.

"Tell us when you come back," Hermione called after him. "It's probably about the Stone."

"Do you think Dumbledore found out who would've wanted to steal it?" Ron wondered.

Hermione shrugged. "It could be anyone."

"Can you imagine if it was Quirrell?" Ron joked.

They laughed a little.

But an hour later, they weren't laughing anymore.

"It  _was_ Quirrell?" Ron exclaimed.

Harry shrugged. "Apparently. Well, not exactly."

"Meaning?"

"Dumbledore identified Voldemort's magic. He somehow possessed Quirrell."

His friends flinched at the name before it sunk in.

"You-Know-Who? Here?" Hermione's voice rose into a squeak.

Ron blanched. "Oh, Merlin. You-Know-Who in our school and we didn't even realize."

But Harry's mind was clearly preoccupied with something else.

"That's not all."

"What?" Ron and Hermione said in unison.

"Before Dumbledore fought him off, he said Voldemort had expected me to go down there. He had seen us keeping an eye on the corridor. I asked Dumbledore why he would have wanted me to, why he had been so interested in me in the first place."

His friends leaned forward. "And?"

"He didn't say exactly. But I guess my mother's sacrifice would've protected me. Somehow."

He didn't look like he had anything else to say, so Ron and Hermione dropped it. Just in time, too, for the door opened and students began streaming into the common room.

  
  


The Slytherins were crowing over their victory of the House Cup long after the feast was over and their belongings were packed.

Harry spent his time on the train chatting with Ron and Hermione, sharing Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans, and alternating between playing Exploding Snap and chess. Ron, of course, won every chess match, although Harry and Hermione made up for it in Exploding Snap.

Jayson and Sid stopped by some time later to ask about Norbert. Sid, especially, seemed to be enthralled by any and all information on dragons, asking several questions — what did it look like? Did Hagrid have to keep the egg in the fire? — while the trio answered to the best of their ability.

"How much sugar did you give him?" Harry whispered to Jayson while Sid and Ron continued to converse.

Jayson looked affronted. "I didn't give him any! He just... really likes anything with scales."

"He should meet Dudley, then," Harry joked.

"Who's Dudley?" Sid turned to him.

"My cousin. Pretty sure he's scared of snakes after I made the glass at the zoo disappear once. Could use the distraction so he doesn't go Harry Hunting first thing."

Four pairs of eyes stared at him in disbelief, the topic of dragons forgotten.

Ron broke the silence first. "Harry Hunting? What's that?"

"Nothing," said Harry, wishing he hadn't opened his mouth.

Sid and Jayson exchanged a glance. They seemed to have a silent conversation for a few seconds. Then Sid said, "You have a telephone?"

"Yeah, but I barely use it."

Sid looked stumped.

Hermione reached up to get her trunk and pulled out a quill and some parchment. "Just in case, though. Call me if something comes up."

"Or me." Sid wrote down his number as well. "If one of us isn't available."

"Thanks." Harry accepted the number and stowed it away in his own trunk. "I'll probably need it."

"But we'll still send owls," Hermione assured him.

Ron and Jayson had watched this with blank expressions.

"A tele-what?" Jayson said.

"Telephone," Sid answered. "You can contact another person without being face to face."

Jayson exchanged a look with Ron, who shrugged. "My dad might know," Ron said. "You know how he is with Muggle things."

When they finally arrived at King's Cross, their families and the Dursleys were waiting. Jayson bade the group good-bye and ran to greet his mother and little sister. He started babbling over the first spells he learned how to cast.

Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes at Jayson as if he were an abomination before turning a familiar scrunched up face to Harry. Briefly, Harry wondered if it had been stuck in that expression after all these years.

"Ready, are you?" Uncle Vernon said.

"You must be Harry's family!" Mrs. Weasley said, smiling.

"In a manner of speaking. Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." He walked off to where Aunt Petunia and Dudley were standing.

"Pleasant man," Sid muttered.

"He certainly is," Harry replied. He turned to Ron and Hermione. "See you over the summer."

"Right." Hermione looked just as taken aback by Uncle Vernon's rudeness as Sid did. "Hope you have a good holiday."

"Well, considering they don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home..." A mischievous gleam shone in Harry's eyes.

"Be careful." Ron touched his shoulder. "Remember to use the fellyfone if you need to."

"I will." Harry waved and went to follow his uncle. Dudley shied away as he neared, positioning himself so he was behind Aunt Petunia, not that that would help much.

"Do you think he'll be all right?" Hermione fretted.

"I'm sure he will," said Ron, although he didn't sound sure, even to himself. "See you."

Ginny immediately pounced on him and began demanding what Slytherin was like. Smiling despite his worries for Harry, Ron began telling her all about living in the dungeons and having Snape as a teacher and everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First year is over! Whooo! On to second year, which I am very excited for because [REDACTED].
> 
> I don't hate Dumbledore, although I understand why some do; his canon actions (or lack thereof) are questionable. But since this is not a bashing fic, I'm aiming for a more likable Dumbledore that wouldn't want the children to put themselves in danger — the warning about the third floor, for example, was not meant to be taken as manipulative at all. Also, since Harry never went down the trapdoor, I had to think of a way for him and Dumbledore to have some version of their conversation in the hospital wing.


	10. Caimans and House-Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer is supposed to be a time of relaxation. Unless your name is Harry James Potter. Then it's hell on Earth.

After having the best time of his life at Hogwarts, being back at Privet Drive was terrible. With Dudley's constant moaning and groaning — which was as irritating to the ears as ever — and the lack of letters from Ron and Hermione, Harry felt as though life had taken a turn for the worst. Well, Harry could probably tolerate Dudley more, but why hadn't his friends written to him?

The only bright spot was that he was able to convince his aunt and uncle to let him call his friends on the promise he'd leave them and Dudley alone. Harry didn't have to think that one through.

He first called Hermione, who was puzzled by the lack of letters.

"I did send you something, Harry, I promise," she insisted. "And Ron did, too, but his owl came back with no response."

About midway through summer, Hermione and her parents went on a trip, so Harry turned to Sid.

"Do you think your relatives are taking your mail?" he asked when Harry explained his situation.

"I doubt it. They don't come near my bedroom if they can help it."

Jayson hadn't been kidding when he said Sid liked anything reptilian. Apparently, crocodiles and alligators weren't the only big scary creatures with long snouts. In fact, they weren't all even big.

"So this... caiman is basically a tiny alligator?" Harry said.

"Yep! And there are a few subspecies of them. You have the black caiman, the spectacled caiman — am I annoying you?"

The abrupt question caught Harry off guard. "Sorry?"

"I try to tell my dad about this stuff, but he's usually busy watching television. And you don't interrupt my dad when he's busy watching television." There was a tinge of bitterness in his otherwise casual tone.

"Obsidian," Harry said, gripping the counter as if it were Sid's shoulders, "you are literally saving me from losing my mind this summer. Keep rambling."

He could almost see Sid's eyes light up. "Okay. Anyway, the spectacled caiman also goes by the name..."

And when Harry wasn't listening to Sid going on about the differences between alligators and crocodiles for the fourth time, he was looking through a book Hagrid had given him. It was filled with photos of his parents, from both before and after graduating Hogwarts, the latter of which cut off abruptly.

Harry could see now how much he resembled his father in looks. There was one picture of James trying to flatten his hair to no avail. A handsome boy with long black hair standing next to him was pointing and laughing at James' clear distress.

Another picture had James and Lily on their wedding day, holding each other. The handsome boy — man now — stood on James' other side, his face full of laughter. Next to this picture was another of the wedding with James and Lily on the forefront and the long-haired man waving in the background. Two other men, one with already graying hair despite looking the same age and the other being short and plump, were trying to pull him out of the frame with no success.

Harry's vision blurred as he looked at their smiling faces, thinking of their fate merely three years later.

Every morning, Ron waited for Harry's reply. And every morning, he was met with disappointment. At first, he wondered if sending Errol had been a good idea. But when Errol returned with only Hermione's letters, that's when he really began to worry, especially when Hermione told him Harry hadn't received anything. Was Harry's uncle hiding the letters?

The thought made his stomach churn. In contrast to Ron, Harry had never spoken warmly of his relatives. Maybe his situation was worse than he had let on. He sent an owl to Sid since he had given Harry his phone number. A few days later, Sid replied, telling Ron that Harry had been calling him and seemed fine. So Ron allowed himself to relax.

But then, in early August, he received a more worrying letter from Sid.

_ Dear Ron, _

_ It's been two weeks since I last heard from Harry. I didn't dare to call in case it got him in trouble. Well, more trouble than he might be already. I thought at first maybe he missed the last time since we schedule our next call randomly. But he still hasn't called and I'm worried. _

_ Obsidian _

Ron replied he was going to get him away from the Dursleys somehow and that he'd notify Sid how it went.

A couple nights later, when everyone was asleep, Ron snuck out to the garage. His father had spoken about Muggle cars enough; it shouldn't take much for him to learn how to drive it.

"Never thought I'd see the day," said a voice that startled the living daylights out of Ron.

Fred and George stood there, wearing identical grins.

"What?" Ron snapped.

"Careful," Fred said in a loud whisper. "Remember, George, he's a snake. He might attack if he feels threatened."

"Right, right." George cleared his throat and deliberately softened his tone. "Whatcha up to?"

Seeing it was the twins, Ron doubted they'd tattle on him. "I'm going to get Harry."

"Shocker," said Fred, looking anything but shocked.

"Do you know how to drive?" George asked, his expression turning serious.

"No." Ron slumped a little. How in the world was he supposed to leave the Burrow, let alone get to Harry's?

"Well," said George, smiling at Ron, "you're in luck. Freddie and I know just what to do."

"You're gonna come with me?" Ron asked.

"We're driving, actually," Fred corrected him. "Come on."

For what felt like the first time in his life, Ron truly appreciated the twins.

Especially once they reached Privet Drive because there were bars on one of the windows. Only one. Harry's window, Ron was certain of it.

They only just got away with all of Harry's things, which admittedly wasn't much. Harry then explained the apparent reason for the lack of letters on his end.

"A house-elf?" Ron said. "And you think it was Malfoy's?"

"I literally asked if he belonged to Malfoy," Harry said. "He kinda looked at me in a guilty way and didn't speak. But he did get me in trouble. I wasn't allowed to make any more calls."

"But he let you before then?" George said. "How long did you and Sid talk?"

"Enough for me to name all the species of caimans."

As they neared The Burrow, Ron grew nervous. This would be the first time Harry had seen his home. Compared to Privet Drive, it looked like a mess with its crookedness and lopsided sign.

"It's not much," he said, but Harry was grinning.

"It's brilliant."

He probably didn't think it was so brilliant when Ron's mother came storming over the yard and began yelling at him and the twins. But when she turned to Harry, she became very sweet and welcomed him with open arms.

It wasn't the most ideal way to introduce the rest of his family to Harry, but he didn't seem to mind it one bit. If anything, he seemed to welcome every minor thing he came across.

_ Those relatives of his must be pretty boring _ , Ron thought as they de-gnomed the garden,  _ for him to find  this interesting _ .

But all that was worth it — flying the car, facing his mother's wrath, spending the morning fighting gnomes — when they reached Ron's room and Harry, grinning widely, proclaimed, "This is the best house I've ever been in."

Harry still thought The Burrow was amazing even once he got used to the randomness of it. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever want to leave. He knew his relatives wouldn't mind — they'd gladly let the Weasleys take him off their hands if given the chance — but he doubted it would happen. All good things had to end eventually, as he found out early in life.

He made sure to send a letter to Sid since he would've been worried. Sid hadn't been surprised by Ron's methods and said Jayson would've done the same. Or worse. He didn't elaborate on that.

Harry spent most of his time with Ron, but he made an effort to get to know the others more. He liked Ron's father, Arthur, who would constantly ask him about Muggle technology during meals. Ron hadn't been kidding when he said Mr. Weasley was obsessed with Muggles — he was very intrigued in the telephone Harry used to talk with Hermione and Sid. Percy remained shut in his room and only came out for meals. It was apparently completely normal for small explosions to sound from the twins' room, although Harry jumped whenever he heard them.

Little Ginny could barely talk around Harry at first, but she soon settled down enough to hold a conversation.

"What's Slytherin like?" she asked one day while doing dishes. Harry had volunteered to help despite Mrs. Weasley insisting he didn't have to. He didn't mind; it was more fun with people that didn't hate you.

"Ron never talked about it?"

"He did, but I wanted to know what you thought."

Harry took a moment to choose his words. "It's nice. Well, once you get used to people like Malfoy, anyway."

"Ron said Malfoy's a prat."

"Not quite. He's a major prat," Harry said, carefully setting a knife down with the other clean silverware. "Even more so than Percy."

Ginny laughed.

"But some of them are nicer. Jay and Sid will talk your ears off. Zabini keeps to himself mostly. Greengrass and Davis are friendly on a good day."

"And on a bad one?"

"Don't know, and I'd rather not find out the hard way," Harry said. "What's the interest in Slytherin anyway?"

"Just curious." But she seemed especially focused on the stubborn spot she was working on.

Harry paused and gave her a look. "Do you want to be Sorted into Slytherin?"

Ginny paused as well. "It sounds like a good house."

"Well, if that's what you want, I'm sure the hat will agree. It did with Ron."

Ginny nodded thoughtfully and said nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the tags indicate, Harry’s aroace, so I may give him a queerplatonic partner. I’m not sure who that will be, but I’m not in any real rush to figure that out.


	11. What Happens at Flourish & Blotts Stays at Flourish & Blotts...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... and the rest of the wizarding world probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays! Or if you don’t celebrate anything, good day to you.

Harry coughed as soot filled his mouth.  _ Note to self, do not travel by Floo if you can help it _ .

"You get used to it," said George.

Harry barely refrained from flinching as George's hand came up to thump him on the back, but he could tell by the flicker in his eyes he had noticed. He didn't get a chance to comment on it, though, for the rest of the family came through one by one.

They met up with Hermione at Gringotts and headed out. The trio, united again, talked excitedly among themselves as they went, slurping on ice cream Harry bought for them. Harry could have almost forgotten that anything was wrong in the world, but then they came across Flourish and Blotts, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing books.

Hermione was thrilled at having a chance to meet him, while Harry and Ron hung back. But the crowd kept pushing and shoving until Harry got separated and ended up standing not far from Lockhart.

Their eyes met and he beamed. "It can't be Harry Potter?"

He reached out to grab him, but Harry had spent plenty of time dodging Dudley and his gang and easily slipped through the crowd until he was safely behind Ron.

"Now, now, I don't bite!" Lockhart called, still smiling.

"You're a strange man who tried to grab me," Harry said. "How was I supposed to know?"

There were a few murmurs of disapproval. Lockhart's smile faltered, but then it was back full force.

"Ladies and gentlemen. What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge — he had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book,  _ Magical Me _ . He and his school fellows will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me."

Harry exchanged a puzzled look with Ron.

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that, this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Oh no.

"Yes!" Hermione whispered, eyes bright. "Isn't this wonderful?"

"Not really," Harry and Ron said together.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," said Percy, but even he looked doubtful.

To make matters worse, Draco Malfoy had watched the whole thing.

"Where's your Gryffindor courage, Potter?" He had his usual sneer on his face. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't face a handful of adoring fans?"

Ginny glowered at him. "Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!"

Malfoy looked her up and down with disdain. "Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend! And a Weasley at that. Let's hope she stays out of the dungeons, hm?"

Ginny's face reddened.

"Yes, let's," said Harry. "For  _your_ sake."

It was Malfoy's turn to go pink.

A man appeared behind him. He had the same pale pointed face. His father, no doubt. Harry wondered if the sneer he wore was passed down the family; it looked just like Draco's.

"Harry Potter," Mr. Malfoy said. "I have heard about you."

"So has most of the wizarding world," Harry pointed out, wondering what was so special about the Malfoys.

Mr. Malfoy looked past Harry and at Mr. Weasley. "Arthur Weasley."

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, coming up behind Harry with a cold look.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?"

His eyes slid over to Ginny's cauldron and he removed a battered copy of  _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ .

"Obviously not. Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Anger bubbles up inside Harry, temporarily blocking out his wariness. If the Weasleys were a disgrace, he didn't want anything else.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," Mr. Weasley said sharply.

"Clearly," said Mr. Malfoy, glancing over at Hermione's parents. "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower —"

That had been the last straw. Mr. Weasley flung himself at Mr. Malfoy, sending the bookstore in chaos. There was shouting and shrieking all around and Harry found himself pulling back with a tight grip on Ron's sleeve.

"Break it up there, gents, break it up —"

Harry had never felt so relieved to see Hagrid. He reached into the thick of the fighting and pulled Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley off each other.

Mr. Malfoy was still holding Ginny's book. He thrust it back into her cauldron. "Here, girl — take your book — it's the best your father can give you."

He and Draco swept out of the bookshop without another word.

"You okay, Harry?" asked Ron.

Harry realized he was trembling a little. "Oh, uh, yeah. Fine." He forced himself to stop, but his heart was still racing. He was relieved when they left the bookshop and Lockhart behind.

Harry didn't have a good relationship with his relatives, that much Ron knew. To what extent he was still uncertain, but from what he pieced together, it was very bad. Bad enough for him to flinch at loud noises and withdraw from unexpected touching. Plus his clothes when they first met. Harry had said they were once his cousin's, which made it sound like they weren't financially well-off if it weren't for fact that Ron had seen enough of Privet Drive to know that wasn't the case.

Ron found himself standing outside the twins' bedroom. He didn't normally seek out the twins, but they were the only ones who had seen the bars on the window besides him. "Fred? George? Can I talk to you for a moment?"

A moment's pause. Then Fred poked his head out, his face unusually serious as if sensing Ron's nervousness.

"It's about Harry."

Fred hesitated, then jerked his head for Ron to come in.

George was sitting on the bed, holding what looked to be an inconspicuous box. But nothing about the twins was inconspicuous, so Ron remained on guard.

"I can't stop thinking about Harry," Ron began. "Did you see how he reacted when Dad attacked Malfoy?"

"Er, no," Fred admitted sheepishly. He had been busy egging his father on.

"I did. He cringed every time we yelled," George piped up. "He also flinched when he came out of the Floo system the first time, when I went to wipe off some of the ash."

"And he jumps whenever you two make an explosion," Ron added, and the twins exchanged guilty looks. "Do you think his uncle... hurts him?" Ron went on tentatively. He desperately hoped that wasn't the case, but how else could he explain Harry's discomfort?

"What are you thinking about?" Fred said.

"I don't know," Ron admitted. "I want to tell Mum and Dad, but what can they do? What can  _ I _ do? I'm only guessing."

"Well, for now, just keep an eye on him," George suggested.

"Don't push him too much," Fred added.

"Make sure he's eating."

"Thanks," said Ron. He couldn't help but glance at the box in Fred's hands. "Er, what's that?"

The familiar mischievous gleam came back in Fred's eyes. "That's for us to know and for you to hopefully not find out the hard way."

Ron slowly nodded and backed away. At least he could count on the twins to be the same as always.

He did his best to keep their advise in mind throughout the rest of the holidays. Since they were sleeping in the same room, it wasn't hard to keep an eye on Harry. And his mother made sure he had eaten plenty at every meal, so that was at least one weight off his shoulders.

He was hoping to be inconspicuous, but Ginny's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing.

"Is something the matter with Harry?" she asked. "You keep watching him like he's gonna disappear."

Ron hesitated. Then he realized she would get it out of him eventually. May as well tell her now.

He looked around to make sure no one was listening and leaned in closer. "Listen. What I'm about to say is very important to keep a secret. At least for now. Okay?"

Ginny nodded, brown eyes serious. For a moment, she looked just like their mother.

"I don't think Harry's home life is as good as people make it out to be," Ron confessed.

"Well, that's not surprising," said Ginny. "I mean, we can't expect to believe everything they say."  _ Like I did _ went unsaid.

"Yeah, but I think it's bad. Really bad." Ron didn't have the heart to open up a world where people hated their own family; he could hardly stomach it himself.

"So you're looking out for him," Ginny concluded.

"Yes. Just until I know for certain." If he ever did.

Ginny thought for a moment. Then she brightened up. "I can help."

Ron shook his head, having already guessed she would say that. "You worry about your first year, okay? Me and Hermione'll take care of Harry."

Ginny bit her lip, conflicted. On one hand, she knew she couldn't do much, especially being in a different year and probably in a different house. But at the same time, she could see what Ron meant. She had asked Harry a couple times about his family, but he was always vague in his answers and quickly turned the conversation away. "Okay."

"Okay." Ron looked relieved. "You should finish packing."

Ginny huffed. "I could probably say the same thing to you."

Ron's ears turned scarlet. "Shut up," he muttered, and Ginny laughed and went back to her room.

Her cauldron was still sitting by her bed with the books sticking out. As she went to put them in her trunk, something dark caught her eye.

It was a small, thin black diary. Curiously, she opened it only to see there was nothing written in it except the smudged T. M. Riddle on the first page.

"What's the point of having a diary if you aren't even gonna write in it?" she said.

She picked out a quill and began writing.


	12. His Smile! It Burns!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second year starts with a bang. Or more accurately, a crash. And yet somehow that's not the worst thing to occur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure on the schedule for Slytherin besides the ones they share with Gryffindor. So some bullsh*tting is to be expected.

CRASH!

Harry fell back with a yelp, Hedwig screeching somewhere above him. Beside them, Ron was lying on his back with his trolley leaning against Harry's.

"What in the blazes d'you think you're doing?" a guard demanded.

"Lost control," said Harry, righting Hedwig's cage back up. "Why can't we get through?" he wondered.

"I dunno," said Ron, looking around. "We're going to miss the train. I don't understand why the gate sealed itself..."

Harry tried pushing his trolley against the barrier, but it did not budge.

"It's gone." Ron was staring at the clock, stunned. "Now what?"

"Maybe we should wait for your parents."

But no one appeared.

"Any other idea?" Ron said finally.

Harry looked around. His eyes fell on Hedwig. "Yes. Hedwig?"

His owl glared at him reproachfully.

"You know we didn't do that on purpose. Now, listen, I need you to send a message, okay?" He opened his trunk and pulled out a quill and a piece of parchment and wrote down,  _ Ron and I couldn't get through the barrier. We're still at King's Cross _ .

Hedwig took the parchment and flew off.

"I hope it's not too long," Harry said, watching her go.

"Owls are pretty fast," Ron reassured him. "With any luck, we'll be in time for the feast."

The last students were being Sorted when they arrived, immensely relieved.

It was unfortunate Professor Snape had been the one sent to get them. His lip had curled upon seeing Harry and Ron, but he hadn't made a derisive remark, just connected to a Floo system that was near the train station and had them go through.

"Where have you been?" Hermione demanded as they sat down.

"Long story," said Ron, who was watching Ginny go up to the stool. "Hang on."

Ginny was up for a long moment. Then, to the disbelief of the school, the hat called, "SLYTHERIN."

Malfoy looked like he had swallowed a lemon. He muttered something to Theodore Nott, who curled his lip at Ginny.

Ginny made a face in return as she took the seat between Ron and Hermione. "Thought you would miss the Sorting," she said to Ron.

"So did I. Slytherin?"

Ginny shrugged. "It gave me a choice." She glanced at Harry, who nodded encouragingly.

"Good choice," said Tracey. "Welcome to Slytherin."

Daphne, Jayson, and Sid echoed her words, and even Blaise gave a short nod.

All in all, not the worst day of Harry's life.

The same couldn't exactly be said for the next day, unfortunately. Second-year Slytherins had Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing, which meant they were to endure Lockhart first. And Harry was not happy.

Lockhart's first assignment was a pop quiz, which he handed out with a smile.

Harry looked at the first question and had to bite back a scoff.

_ 1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite color? _

Harry put down,  _ Vomit green . _

_ 2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition? _

_ To blind us all with his smile . _

_ 3\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date? _

_ Not being hexed for being annoying for so long . _

Lockhart collected the quizzes and began looking through them.

"Tut, tut — hardly any of you remembered that my favorite colour is lilac. I say so in  _ Year with a Yeti _ . And a few of you need to —”

He broke off and the smile on his face vanished, making him much more tolerable to look at.

"Mr. Potter?"

"Is something wrong, sir?" Harry asked a little too innocently.

"Vomit green. That's an oddly strange color to like."

"Really? I thought it suited you just fine."

There was a snicker from Ron, but Hermione looked as if Harry had personally affronted her.

Lockhart looked as if he was only now seeing Harry in a different light. "Right, well." He fumbled around with the quizzes. "To business..."

The rest of class was somewhat more tolerable, but Harry was just glad to be on the other side of the door when the Cornish pixies were released. Crabbe and Goyle, on the other hand, were not so lucky.

"Did you have to provoke him?" Hermione snapped as they headed to their next class, Charms.

"Hermione, did you see those questions? Rubbish, all of them. I don't care about Lockhart's favorite color."

"But the things he's done..."

"He  _ says _ he's done," said Ron and Hermione fell silent.

After Charms was lunch. The trio headed to the Great Hall in higher spirits.

Ginny was already there, sitting alone with a small black book. She looked a bit pale, making her freckles stand out even more than usual. Harry walked up to her.

"You okay?"

Ginny started and pushed her book away hastily. "I'm fine." She gave him an unconvincing smile and quickly averted her gaze.

"I'll see you in the common room?" Harry said, and she shrugged.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry rejoined his friends.

"She's probably homesick," Ron said, though he glanced over at Ginny with concern.

"Yeah, maybe."

"All right, Harry?" an unfamiliar voice said, making him jump and whirl around. A tiny mousy-haired boy was standing behind him with a camera. "I'm Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor. "D'you think — would it be all right if — can I have a picture?"

"A picture?"

"So I can prove I've met you," Colin said enthusiastically.

"I'm not — I'm not that special."

"But you survived You-Know-Who." Colin's eyes flicked to Harry's forehead. "Please? And can you sign it?"

"If you want a signed photo, I suggest you go to Lockhart. He'd probably sign anything," Harry said.

Colin looked downcast and Harry sighed.

"Look, given what happened to me as a baby, do you really think I want to be reminded? My parents are dead."

Colin shifted around, lowering his camera.

Harry thought for a moment. "How about this, I'll sign one photo if and only if you promise not to bombard me in the future. Okay?"

"Right now?" Colin bounced on his toes.

"Maybe later. I'd like to eat first."

"Okay. Bye, Harry!" Colin took off running back to the Gryffindor table.

Harry turned to see several Slytherins watching him. "What?" he said defensively.

"Nothing," said Tracey. "That was really sweet of you, Harry."

Malfoy was sneering, of course. "Real sweet. I forgot you had a soft spot for Gryffindor."

"You forgot?" Harry tilted his head. "Maybe you should ask your dad to get you a Remembrall."

Jayson snorted into his pumpkin juice and had ended up having a coughing fit while Sid thumped him on the back without looking up from his plate.

"You good there?" Harry said.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Harry did later have his picture taken, though he explicitly told Colin not to duplicate it as he did not want it to become a thing. Whether Colin actually did as he asked was a different story.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, as they normally do.

Malfoy became the Seeker for Slytherin, which he bragged about constantly. Harry had to resist the urge to hex his mouth shut several times a day.

On the bright side, Lockhart was liking Harry less and less. In every lesson they had, Harry would ignore Lockhart's attempts at conversing with him and just do the work.

There was another pop quiz Lockhart sprung on them, in which Harry refused to do since the questions were just as useless as the first pop quiz. He was assigned detention for that, which would have been fine if it were with literally anyone but Lockhart.

"Fame sounds so boring!" Jayson said, shaking his head. "How do you stand it, Harry?"

"I ask myself that all the time," said Harry grouchily.

"Well, good luck, mate." Ron patted him on the back.

"Thanks."

Harry trudged to Lockhart office and hit the door with his fist. "I'm here, sir," he said through gritted teeth.

Lockhart opened the door. He was smiling as usual, but it just reminded Harry of his answer to one of the questions on the first quiz. Lockhart must've followed his train of thoughts for his smile vanished.

"Come in," he said, trying and failing to sound like nothing had happened. "You can address the envelopes!"

"Sounds fun," said Harry, but the sarcasm was lost on Lockhart.

Minutes dragged by slowly. Harry had never thought he'd actually hate anything more than chores back at Privet Drive. Well, maybe it was on the same level.

'Come... come to me... let me rip you... let me tear you... let me kill you...'

Harry lifted his head. "Did you hear that?"

Lockhart paused in his rambling. "Hear what?"

Harry listened, but he heard nothing. "N-nothing," he said. "Thought I heard something."

Lockhart looked at the clock. "Great Scott — look at the time! It's no wonder you look so drowsy."

Harry, who had been drowsy barely one minute in, wondered if he was being deliberately obtuse. But he made his escape quickly and headed for the common room.

Ron was still awake when Harry entered the dorm. "Hey, what's up? You look like you saw the Grim."

"The what? Never mind." Harry quietly explained the voice he heard.

"And Lockhart didn't hear it?"

"No. Honestly, I'm not sure if I was just imagining it."

Ron stared at him for a moment. "Well, if you hear it again, you'll know for sure."

Hermione put down the book with a sigh. Ever since Ron had shared his worries about Harry with her, she had been doing what she did best: research. There was little information on the more... troubling aspects of family relationships, but Hermione managed to get some.

Keeping it from Harry wasn't easy, though since Hermione was almost always in the library, he didn't think much of it.

So when Harry spoke up behind her, she whipped out her wand fully intending to cast a painful hex.

"Whoa!" Harry yelped, earning a few glares from nearby fifth years. "It's just me! You can put that away."

"Sorry." Hermione lowered her wand sheepishly. "I'm a bit on edge."

"No kidding," Harry muttered, sliding into the chair next to her. He peered at the open page and frowned. "'Signs of abusive...'? Hermione, why are you looking at this?"

Hermione didn't answer. This wasn't how she intended for him to find out.

Something must have shown on her face for Harry's expression closed off. "This is about me, isn't it?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered. "I'm really sorry, Harry. But Ron was worried —"

"Ron knows?"

"He's the one who brought it to my attention. But please listen, Harry," she went on quickly at Harry's look. "He was worried about you. And frankly, I am too. We didn't say anything because we wanted to be sure."

Harry looked conflicted. He stared at the page, his eyes trailing over the words for a moment. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. "And what did you figure out?"

"First off, that your relatives are awful people," Hermione said.

"That's a given, isn't it?"

Hermione let out a dry laugh. "Yeah. Do they... starve you?"

"No," said Harry, and Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief, only to inhale sharply when he added, "If I don't get to eat, that's on me."

It took a few seconds for Hermione to process what he said. "That's not right," she whispered. "You're supposed to eat something substantial every day. Because you're growing."

She almost wanted to cry at his bewildered expression.

"Let me guess. I shouldn't be cooking for everyone?"

"Are you being forced to do it?"

Hermione wasn't surprised when Harry nodded, but it didn't make it any easier. "Oh, Harry!" She went to hug him but stopped, remembering Ron's warning of touching him.

It was okay, though; Harry tentatively moved forward and wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank you for trying," he said, and that was when a tear slid down Hermione's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't ship Harmione romantically, but platonically? We need more big sister Hermione.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if this is the most realistic reaction from Harry, but I'm going with it. Because Harry does seem to at least see that the Dursleys' treatment of him isn't normal in canon, especially when he had spent that time with the Weasleys (albeit not long).


	13. A Petrifying Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve almost caught up with cross-posting from Wattpad.

It became a little easier after that, knowing that Hermione and Ron were trying to be as supportive as possible. They didn't treat Harry differently, but he noticed how they coaxed him to share what he was ready for with them. It was nice.

And it served as a good distraction to the strange voice. He didn't hear it again. At least not for a while. Besides, Halloween was coming; Harry was looking forward to attending the feast this time.

Throughout the afternoon before dinner, the Slytherins gathered around the fireplace, anticipating the hopefully troll-free feast that would soon take place. Harry and Ron were playing chess while Hermione scribbled away on a piece of parchment.

Sid was telling Jayson about a snake species that played dead. "It reminds me of you."

"How?"

"Because it will roll over to show just how dead it is. It likes the theatrics."

Jayson exchanged a look with Blaise, who shrugged. "I'll take that as a compliment?"

"You're welcome." Sid flashed him a grin which Jayson returned by sticking his tongue out.

Harry looked between the pieces on the chessboard. He was absolutely rubbish at chess, but he thought he was doing at least better than last year. He moved his bishop, which was immediately taken out by Ron's knight. Or not.

"Bad luck," said Jayson, hanging over the couch. "You should've moved the other one. Or maybe the rook. It can afford to move over a square or two, I think. Or how about that pawn? You hadn't touched it yet. No, wait, the —"

"Thank you, Jayson. That was really helpful," Harry said even though he barely registered anything the other boy had said.

Finally, it was time for the feast. The Slytherins headed out to the Great Hall, which had been decorated for the holiday.

"At least there's no troll," Hermione said.

"Just you wait," Ron muttered. "The night's not over with yet."

"Don't jinx it," Harry said, dunking a piece of steak into his mashed potatoes.

Halfway through dessert, Ron looked at something past Harry. "Oh. There's Ginny. I was wondering where she was."

Harry turned to see Ginny approaching them, her head lowered.

"Where have you been?" Ron asked, but she didn't reply, just sank into a seat and began piling her plate. She looked very pale, though, and would only nibble at the edge of her food.

"Is she homesick?" Hermione said in a low voice.

"Could be," Ron replied. "But I don't think she'd be looking so sick. Maybe she's coming down with something."

Ginny certainly did look like she was ill. But before he could taking her to the hospital wing, something caught his attention.

'... rip... tear... kill...'

"That voice," Harry whispered.

Ron swung around to face him, his mind temporarily off Ginny. "Again?"

"What's it saying?" Hermione asked.

'... sooo hungry... for so long...'

The voice grew fainter until it was out of hearing range, but Harry had a terrible feeling about it. "Maybe we should tell the headmaster," he began.

"I don't know." Ron looked uneasy. "Hearing voices no one else can isn't a good sign, not even in the wizarding world."

Students were beginning to get up, blissfully full and unaware of anything gone wrong.

"Maybe we should wait until tomorrow," Hermione suggested. "Get some rest before tackling whatever it is Harry's hearing."

But things didn't quite go as planned.

They had barely stepped out of the Great Hall when silence fell. Pushing his way forward, Harry found himself staring up at a frozen Mrs. Norris. Above her, more horrifying, were the words:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Malfoy came up to stand next to him. His face was flushed with glee, not horror or fear.

"Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Harry stared at him with growing alarm. He knew something, Harry didn't know what. But he knew  _ something _ .

Filch came running in. "What's going on here? What's going on?" His eyes fell on Mrs. Norris. "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?"

His popping eyes fell on the students who were unfortunate to be closest to the ominous message. "You! You murdered my cat! I'll kill you! I'll —"

"Argus!" Dumbledore appeared, and just in time, too; the poor students looked just as still as Mrs. Norris. "Come with me. Everyone else, to your dorms."

Harry slowly backed away, unable to remove his eyes from the foreboding words on the wall.

"Hey." Ron touched his arm. "We need to go."

Harry followed as if in a daze. When they reached the dungeons, he saw Malfoy eagerly talking to a group of Slytherins. His pale eyes sought out Hermione and he sneered. "You might want to keep your eyes open, Granger. It might be you that's next."

It took the combined efforts of Harry, Hermione, and Sid to restrain Ron from lunging at Malfoy.

"To the dorm," said Harry, struggling to pull Ron away.

Ron ceased his struggles only once they reached the staircase.

Hermione started toward her own dorm. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," she said. Her head was held high, but Harry could see the fear she was trying to suppress.

Harry and Ron entered their dorm. Jayson was pacing back and forth, biting his nails.

Sid went over to him. "Hey. What's wrong?"

"Muggle-borns are in trouble, I can just feel it. Kyra has a friend who's a Muggle-born. What am I going to do if something happens to her?"

"Maybe you should write to your parents," Sid suggested.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's an idea... I'll write to them... tomorrow."

He was still muttering to himself as they all climbed into bed.

For several minutes, Harry couldn't sleep. It wasn't just Hermione that was in danger. Other Muggle-borns were as well, and even purebloods like Ron could still get hurt in the crossfire. What if someone got hurt? Or killed? What would happen then? Would Hogwarts shut down?

He forced his thoughts to cease. There was nothing he could do at that moment but sleep and deal with it tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone who saw the reflection of the basilisk's eyes: At first I was afraid, I was petrified...
> 
> (Forgot where I first saw this meme/shitpost)


	14. Lending a Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between the voices and Lockhart, Harry doesn't know what's worse. Probably the Bludger.

Over the next few days, Ginny couldn't concentrate. Well, she was already having difficulties doing so, but after Halloween, it became even worse. Why couldn't she remember where she had been? And why did the writing on the wall appear not even twenty minutes later? Tom had reassured her that it was probably just a coincidence. An eerie and frightening one, but a coincidence nonetheless. Ginny was not sure she believed him.

Her dormmates, all of whom she was lucky enough to get along with and even be friendly with, did not seem to take any notice as they went about their lives as normally as they could given the circumstances. That was fine. Ginny didn't need any prying questions, especially when she didn't even know how she'd answer.

"Morning, Gin!" one of them greeted as she trudged into the Great Hall.

"Morning," Ginny mumbled back automatically.

She didn't expect her dormmate to peer at her more closely. "Are you all right? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine, Paisley." Ginny forced herself to smile, but it mustn't have been very convincing; Paisley was still eyeing her dubiously.

"You might want to take a break from writing," was all she said in the end, nodding to the diary peeking out of Ginny's bag. "You've been glued to that since the beginning of term."

She said this very lightly, yet Ginny could feel her face grow hot. "Yeah, y-you're probably right."

But as she took a seat a distance away, she couldn't help but take it out and look it over. Same shabby black cover, same blank pages yellowed with age. Same unpleasant feeling that she had been friends with it for years and not a mere couple of months.

"Hey, Ginny."

She jumped as if she had been given an electrical shock and whirled around to see worried green eyes looking down at her. "Oh, hi, Harry! I, um — I didn't see you coming."

Harry glanced at her diary, which she had clumsily shoved back into her bag. "Is something wrong?"

"N-no. Of course not." But she couldn't look him in the eye. She pushed the diary further into her bag, jumped up, and ran back to her dorm without eating anything.

Classes would be starting soon, but Ginny took the time to open the diary, a quill poised above the pages.

_ Hi, Tom. I'm back _ , she wrote.

The morning of the first Quidditch match of the year was like a breath of fresh air. Even the horror of the mysterious Chamber of Secrets faded to the background for at least the time being.

Harry and the rest of the school headed to the stands to enjoy the Gryffindors and Slytherins flying about.

There was no denying the Slytherins' broomsticks were superior. The Slytherins were all just small green blurs as they flew back and forth, quickly taking the lead in points. Even still, the Gryffindors were putting up a good fight.

Something dark caught Harry's eye. It was a Bludger and it was...

... heading his direction.

Harry and the nearby Slytherins leapt out of the way, hearing it slam into the stand.

"Harry!" Ron shouted over the screams. "Are you okay?"

Harry didn't get a chance to reply for the Bludger had circled back over and was now diving toward him again.

Luckily, one of the Slytherin beaters,

Lucian Bole, was close by and managed to hit the Bludger back into the game.

It worked... for two seconds.

“Harry, look out!" Hermione shrieked as the Bludger came hurtling back toward them.

Up in the air, Lucian was arguing with Marcus Flint.

"Forget Potter!" Flint snapped. "Gryffindor is catching up!"

"But the Bludger —"

"Forget it!"

Lucian growled to himself but moved away.

"Will someone catch the bloody Snitch!" Harry yelled to no one in particular. He didn't even care who won at this point.

The Bludger seemed to have let off for now, but Harry wasn't about to hold his breath. He kept side-eyeing it while also trying to watch the game.

Slytherin was still ahead, but only by twenty points.

Malfoy had spotted the Snitch and was now pelting toward it. But despite his broomstick's greater speed, the Gryffindor Seeker, Merrill, had the advantage of being closer. It was his hand that was mere inches from the Snitch when Hermione screamed Harry's name again.

WHAM!

Too intent on the Seekers, Harry hadn't seen the Bludger make one final attack. He didn't move out of the way fast enough and felt it smash into his elbow.

A whistle sounded through the agony in his arm. Merrill must have caught the Snitch. Great, now he could get to the hospital wing.

"Oh, no," Jayson groaned. But he wasn't looking at Harry; his eyes were fixed on something past him.

Harry followed his gaze to see Lockhart squeezing through the Slytherins. "Oh no," he also groaned.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," Lockhart said. He was smiling, but at least his teeth weren't showing. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

And before Harry could protest, the pain was gone. So were the bones in his arm and what little patience Harry had with everything.

"So Malfoy's house-elf managed to close the barrier?"

Harry looked at Ron with an exasperated expression. "Really, that's the part you focused on? Not the fact that — I don't know — the Chamber has been opened before or that another student has been petrified?"

"Hey, you try processing all that at once," Ron said, raising his hands in defense.

"Speaking of which, we need to find out for certain if it's Malfoy," Hermione said. "I was doing some extra reading —"

"Isn't that  _ all _ your reading?"

"— and I found a spell that makes someone speak the truth," Hermione continued as if Ron had not spoken. "Of course, some people can fight it, but I doubt Crabbe or Goyle could. You'd need to know Occlumency, but even I didn't until then."

"I can't see this turning out as anything but disastrous," Ron muttered. But he didn't object to the plan, so truth spell it was.

The last thing Harry wanted to do was be in Lockhart's presence any more than he had to, yet here he was standing next to him while Malfoy faced him.

"Now, Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

Lockhart raised his wand, did some complicated movements that did absolutely nothing, and dropped it. "Whoops — my wand is a little overexcited."

Snape whispered something in Malfoy's ear and Harry had half a mind to just let Malfoy blast him off the stage.

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy muttered.

"You wish."

Lockhart hadn't heard them. "Remember to do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

"Three — two — one — go!" Lockhart shouted.

Malfoy raised his wand. "Serpensortia!"

A long black snake shot from the end of his wand. Several people screamed and back away, but Harry just stared at it. A snake? Really? And here he had thought Snape would make a good Ravenclaw.

Lockhart jumped forward. "Allow me!" he said, but instead of vanishing it like he had probably meant to do, he sent it flying.

It hit the floor in front of Justin Finch-Fletchley and reared up to strike.

'Stop!' Harry cried and to his astonishment, it dropped to the floor. Harry sighed in relief, but he was the only one. Justin was staring at Harry with a mixture of fear and anger.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted before racing from the Hall.

Harry's brow furrowed. "What —?"

Then he remembered something. Salazar Slytherin had been the only known snake speaker, or a Parselmouth. Harry had been Sorted into Slytherin. And he just spoke to a snake.

"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered.

He felt a tug at his robe and looked down to see Ron gawking at him, his freckled face pale. He steered Harry out of the Great Hall with Hermione following close behind.

They didn't speak until they reached the common room.

"Somehow," said Harry before either of his friends could speak, "I forgot about Parselmouths."

"How can you forget something that big?" Ron said. "And how could you not tell us?"

"It wasn't on my mind, Ron, all right?" Harry removed his glasses to rub his eyes. "I was kinda busy listening for that voice. Besides, this shouldn't mean anything. I didn't intend for the snake to hurt Justin."

"Harry," Hermione said slowly, "you're a Parselmouth in Slytherin. People are going to be suspicious now regardless of your intentions."

"There shouldn't be any doubt," Harry argued. "I mean, really. I was at the feast when Mrs. Norris was petrified."

"And people will realize that," Ron said. "Hopefully."

Ron was, unfortunately, only partly correct. True, people pointed out Harry was present in the Great Hall, but he could've had an accomplice.

"And who would have been my accomplice?" Harry grouched when he first heard it.

Ron shrugged. "Who knows? Malfoy?"

They all looked to see a very harassed-looking Malfoy trying to escape Sid, who was begging for the spell Snape told him to use. "Look," he was saying as they neared the trio, "just show me and I won't insult you behind your back for one hour."

Malfoy stopped at the entrance and turned. "You insult me behind my back?" He looked too baffled to really be angry.

"Well, I won't for an hour if you show me that spell." A new thought had his eyes lighting up hopefully. "Do you think there's a spell to conjure a crocodile? Or an alligator? A dragon!"

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment. Then he promptly exited without answering. Sid huffed and stomped over to the trio, where he slumped in a chair with a scowl on his face.

"You should probably go find Justin and tell him you never intended to scare him," he said grouchily.

"As if that'll change anything." But Harry went ahead anyway.

He found a group of Hufflepuffs in the library and walked over. "Hey."

By the way they all jumped, Harry guessed they had been talking about him.

"Look, I don't know what your deal is," Harry said, "but I wasn't trying to attack Justin."

"Oh really?" said a stout boy.

"Yes. I don't have anything against people for being Muggle-born."

"You don't like the Muggles you live with."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You try living with them for a week. Maybe you'd like being called a freak for having magic."

A girl with blonde pigtails, Hannah Abbott, gaped. "They don't really..."

Harry smiled grimly. "Trust me, that's the lightest thing they've done."

Another girl, this one with a long plait down her back, was looking at Harry with a thoughtful expression. Harry wished he knew what she was thinking.

A scream sounded, making them jump.

The Hufflepuffs slipped past Harry and thundered out to find the source of the commotion. A moment later, Hannah was back. "Justin and Nearly Headless Nick have been petrified!"

"Nearly Headless...? But he's a ghost!" Harry said, following her.

But when he joined the Hufflepuffs, he could see she was right. McGonagall gave the stout boy, Ernie, a fan and told him to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs while Justin was carried off to the hospital wing.

The Hufflepuff girls stood next to Harry, their expressions of shock, while an unperturbed Peeves floated above them, singing merrily.

Meanwhile, back in the Slytherin dorms, a very distressed Ginny was sitting by her bed staring wide-eyed at the diary, which was clutched in her hands so tightly it probably would have permanent indentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ginny. It's such a shame the books didn't delve more into the diary's impact on her. I mean, she spent a whole school year being influenced by what was basically half of Voldemort and the only time they brought it up was when Harry had the vision of Nagini attacking Arthur.


	15. Truth or Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to find the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And a place a snake can live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally caught up.

By the end of the day, no one thought Harry was the heir. But it did raise the question as to who could have possibly been behind the attacks. Even the theory of Harry having an accomplice was fading into the background, or maybe he just wasn't noticing them as much due to the Hufflepuffs that had been in the library renewed interest in him.

"Why should they be worried about me when there's something petrifying students?" Harry muttered. They had passed Ernie, Hannah, and Susan, the girl with the plait, and all of them had immediately begun whispering among themselves once they were out of earshot.

"You did indicate your relatives' treatment of you," Hermione pointed out.

"Susan's aunt is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Ron added. "If anyone has even an idea on how to deal with nasty people, it's her."

"Right." The corridor was not the best place to discuss his home life.

Ron changed the subject. "So the spell. You think you mastered it?" he asked Hermione.

"Course I have," Hermione said. "Now we just need to find a time to do it."

"Well, I think the holidays is the best time," Harry said. "Practically everyone's going home."

"Whatcha talking about?"

Jayson's voice made Harry jump a foot into the air.

"Jay!" he said crossly.

"Sorry." He cleared his throat. "Whatcha talking about? Are you plotting against Malfoy again? Can I help? It was so fun last time."

"Last time?" Hermione echoed. "Wait, that was you who knocked Malfoy out last year?"

Ron looked at Jayson with renewed interest.

"Don't know what you're talking about. So" — Jayson gave a little bounce on the balls of his feet — "can I? I promise I won't ask what you're doing."

Harry thought for a moment. "That depends. Are you staying for the holidays?"

"Er, no."

"We can't do it then if he's gonna help," Ron pointed out.

"Right. Well, in that case..."

"Oh no!" Malfoy groaned as Jayson plopped down next to him.

"Excuse you, but I am wonderful company," Jayson said indignantly. "And that spell you used was also wonderful. Please tell me. For Sid's sake."

Malfoy closed his eyes. Of course he was here for that. He really wished Crabbe and Goyle would get over here.

Meanwhile, Ron was in the library under the pretense of looking for information on Slytherin's monster. At a signal from a hidden Harry — removing his glasses to rub his eyes — Ron stepped out and bumped into Goyle.

"Watch it, Weasel!" he said.

"Yeah, watch it!" Crabbe added.

“You watch it," Ron retorted, uncaring how weak his response was.

Goyle's eyes strayed to the book in his hands. "What's that you're reading?" he asked and seized it from Ron, shoving him when he tried to retrieve it.

"Slytherin's monster?" Goyle said. "What are you gonna do? Go after it?"

"Shut it." Ron made another lunge, but Crabbe pushed him back down. "As if I'd tell you what I'd do. Malfoy would probably use that knowledge for the next attack."

"If only!" Goyle said. Unaware of the wand that was pointed at him between two thick books, he plowed on. "Draco wishes he knew who's doing it. He'd help. He'd get rid of the Mudblood Granger." A look of confusion crossed his face, then dawning realization at what he had said.

But Ron had come prepared. He took out his wand and muttered, "Confundo."

Crabbe and Goyle's expressions went blank.

"I bumped into you," Ron murmured, "you snapped at me, and that was it."

He put his wand away and snatched his book back. "Keep your grubby hands off my stuff, will you?"

With that, he walked off, leaving the other two boys to carry on, unaware of the information they had let slip.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Harry muttered.

"I don't know about that," said Ron. "I mean, Sid's happy."

They looked over to where Jayson and Sid were sitting on the floor with an adder between them. Apparently, Jayson had been successful in getting Malfoy to finally show him the spell. Now Malfoy was in his dorm with Crabbe and Goyle, too frazzled to even sneer at the trio.

"Glad someone is," Harry said. Being the only Parselmouth, he was the one who had to tame the adder lest someone got bit. Luckily, adders were among the more timid species, and this one seemed to take to Sid very well. "Where's it gonna live, though? I doubt Snape would like it, even if this is the  _ Slytherin _ common room."

"Maybe we can send it off to your cousin," said Ron.

"That's a terrible idea!" Hermione protested. "The poor adder doesn't deserve that."

Harry snorted at that. Turning, he called to Sid. "Where do adders live again?"

"Open areas like the moor," Sid replied, his fingers absently stroking the adder's head.

"So we can't just release it into the Forbidden Forest," Harry concluded.

"It could live at the edge," Jayson suggested. "The grounds around the lake is open territory."

"Lake it is." Sid stood and, with the adder safely nestled in his arms, left the common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a Harry Potter fanfic or a reptile trivia book? Yes.


	16. Dear Diary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry investigates Ginny’s diary.

The first thing the adder did when Sid released it was find an abandoned burrow and go to sleep. Sid explained that adders slept through until March — "That sounds lovely," said Ron wistfully — so they shouldn't disturb it.

When the second term began, the teachers wasted no time in piling homework on them. On top of that, everyone was fretting over when the first attack of the term would be. Jayson would frequently be seen going over to the Gryffindor table to talk with his sister, making sure she was okay. Likewise, Percy crossed over to the Slytherin table a couple times to speak to Ginny, but it didn't seem to be doing any good. She was always writing in that little diary of hers, which Harry would think would be helping ease her tensions.

Speaking of which, the diary was nowhere to be seen on Ginny's person. Harry was wondering where it could have possibly gone when he heard a commotion. He turned in that direction and found himself outside a flooded bathroom. There were thin wails coming from it.

Harry stepped over the Out of Order sign and went in. "Hello?"

A female ghost appeared. "What? Come to throw something at me?"

"Someone threw something at you? What?"

"A book. It's over there, it got washed out."

Harry looked to where she was pointing. It was Ginny's diary of all things. He carefully picked it up and opened it, but there was no writing except for the smudged "T. M. Riddle" on the first page.

There was something odd about it. Harry had a strange desire to write in it, but pushed it away. Still, he couldn't just leave it there. He pocketed it and turned away.

In an attempt to take their minds off the petrifications, Lockhart announced he would have cupids go around delivering valentines.

Harry's stomach churned. For a moment, he thought he was in danger of throwing up.

"Hermione, please tell me you didn't send him a card," Ron pleaded, casting a grimace in Lockhart's direction.

Hermione suddenly seemed very occupied in looking for her timetable.

Harry found himself very occupied in hoping no one would send him anything. To his horror, as the Slytherins were heading for Transfiguration, a dwarf came right up to him, seizing him around the knees when he tried to make a run for it.

As the dwarf recited the poem, Harry caught sight of Ginny standing among a cluster of fellow Slytherin first years. Her eyes were not on Harry, however. She was gazing, horrified, at the diary that had spilled out onto the floor. Before Harry could speak, she was gone.

"I told you I didn't want him to see that," Ginny muttered, face buried in her hands.

"Come on, Gin! You have to admit it was kinda funny."

Ginny lifted her head to stare at her friend in disbelief. "No, it wasn't! Did you see Harry's face?"

Paisley shrugged. "All boys act like that when they're faced with lovesick girls."

Ginny didn't know how to tell her that looking as though you were about to be physically sick was probably not a normal reaction. Surprised? Yes. Alarmed? Certainly. But looking as though you were about to hurl? She doubted it.

Seeing Ginny's uncertainty, Paisley sighed. "Look, I'm sure Potter will forget all about it soon enough. I mean, it's not like he's gonna pull you aside in private to tell you off."

"Ginny?"

Both girls blanched and turned to see Harry and Ron approaching them.

"Or maybe he will. Bye!" And then Paisley was bolting for her dorm. By the time Ginny's mind caught up to what had happened and she turned, Paisley's brown curls were disappearing from sight.

Ginny huffed. Typical. "Harry," she began, slowly turning to face him, "I swear the valentine was just a joke. I didn't expect Paisley to —" She broke off with a shriek as her eyes landed on the small black book in Harry's hands. "Why do you have that? Get rid of it!"

Harry looked startled at her response. "Why? Is it dangerous?"

"I don't know. I just — I can't remember what I'm doing when I'm with it."

Ron placed a hand on her shoulder. "Explain."

Ginny bit her lip, but she knew she had to speak with someone about it. "It started with Mrs. Norris' petrification. I was in the common room writing in this, then next thing I know, I'm walking into the Great Hall feeling all sorts of wrong."

As she spoke, her eyes wandered over to the diary and she wrenched her gaze away.

"And then Colin... I had to get rid of it, but it was almost impossible!"

"It writes back, doesn't it?" Harry said. "I noticed that it was the only thing that wasn't drenched in ink."

He gestured to his bag. Ginny could see scarlet ink staining his other books.

"You didn't think that was suspicious?" Ron asked. "Mum always said not to trust something if you don't know where it's brain is."

"I know that. But I can't stop myself," Ginny said. "I felt this pull toward it — I feel it now!" she added, grabbing a hold of her hair before she could take out a quill and start writing right there.

Harry glanced at the diary, his eyebrows furrowed. "Ginny, I think we should tell the headmaster about this."

"You think Tom is doing something to me?" she asked, her voice raising in fear.

"Tom? Is that his name? Maybe. I don't know. But the headmaster might be able to help. But only if you go to him."

Ginny looked at the diary, then back at Harry and Ron. "Can you come with me?"

"Course. That's what friends are for, right?"

Ginny smiled a little. "Yeah. Ron?"

"Right behind you."

The three stood and exited the dungeons.

They walked in silence, meeting no one all the way to the gargoyle that stood in front of the headmaster's office. It was only then did Harry realize he didn't know how to get in.

"Er... sherbet lemon?" he tried, remembering the last time he came here.

Nothing.

"Cockroach cluster? Pumpkin pasty? Acid pop? Open sesame?"

He was starting to feel like he was going off the deep end, especially with Ginny and Ron slowly turning to face him with matching dubious expressions.

"Fizzing Whizzbee?"

To their astonishment, the gargoyle hopped to the side. Silently, they stepped onto the spiral staircase and let it take them up until they were facing the oak door that led to Dumbledore's office.

Harry went to knock, but was surprised to hear another voice. He couldn't recall ever hearing it, but something like longing twisted in his gut.

"— too dangerous, Albus! First Mrs. Norris, now a second year?"

"I know," said the headmaster. "But with so little information, I cannot move forward."

"Well, go look for it!" the second person snapped.

"Maybe we should wait another time," Ginny whispered.

"No, this is exactly why we're here in the first place," Harry said and knocked.

The voices stopped. Then Dumbledore spoke. "Enter."

Harry opened the door and walked in.

There were two people there. One was the headmaster, the other an unfamiliar man. His eyes widened in astonishment upon landing on Harry, and he leapt to his feet.

"Harry!"

Harry jumped as the chair he had been sitting in hit the floor with a loud crash. Then he realized something. Unlike most people who reacted to his appearance, this seemed different. The man's face was full of excitement, yes, but also... hope?

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

The hope dimmed. "You don't remember me?"

Harry peered more closely. The man looked young, but he already had streaks of gray in his light brown hair. And though Harry's initial thought had been a stranger, he was beginning to feel he had seen him somewhere. Still, nothing came to mind. "I'm sorry."

The man looked away. "It's all right," he said.

Behind Harry, Ginny shifted uncertainly and he remembered why they were here.

"Professor?" Harry addressed the headmaster, trying to get back on top of things. "I think I have an idea as to what happened with Mrs. Norris and Colin." He held out the diary. "It belonged to Ginny."

Dumbledore took it and removed his wand. He lightly ran it over the diary and his eyes darkened. "How long have you had this?" he asked Ginny.

"Since the summer. I don't remember getting it, but it was in my cauldron when we came back from shopping for my supplies."

Ron gasped. "Lucius Malfoy put it in there! Did you see, Harry? Back at the bookshop?"

Harry suddenly had a fleeting image of Lucius Malfoy shoving Ginny's Transfiguation book back into her cauldron. There had been something dark next to it, but Harry had assumed it had been a shadow. Besides, he had been more focused on not having a panic attack in the middle of a crowded bookstore. "Oh, Merlin."

"You mean when he..." Ginny trailed off as Harry nodded and let out a wail. "Oh no! I've been writing in something he probably cursed!"

"What happened when you wrote, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked.

"It wrote back. Tom wrote back." Ginny twirled her hair around her fingers, looking as though it was taking all her strength just to not look at the little black book.

"Tom?" Something flickered in Dumbledore's eyes.

"Tom Riddle. He was so nice and I didn't stop to think maybe I shouldn't be writing in it until I realized I couldn't remember certain parts. It's a good thing they found it." She threw the others an appreciative glance. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Dumbledore was staring down at the little black book as if it would spring to life. "Tom Riddle is the real name of Lord Voldemort."

Ginny squeaked and Ron gasped again. "You mean she was writing to You-Know-Who?"

"In a way."

"There!" said the young man. Harry had almost forgotten he was there. "You have something to go by! Right?"

Dumbledore didn't answer right away. He was gazing at the diary thoughtfully. "There is a way to break the magic inside. Remus, I'm going to have to ask you to take these three outside for a moment."

A jolt ran through Harry. He  _ did _ know that name! But from where?

Remus nodded. "Okay. Come on, you three."

He, Harry, Ron, and Ginny, stepped outside the door.

"So, Remus," Harry said slowly, "how do you know me? I'm assuming it isn't just because of my scar."

Remus smiled. "Well, that is a distinctive feature on you now, but no. I am — or I was one of your father's friends."

In a flash, Harry remembered where he had seen him. "That was you in that picture behind my parents! Trying to pull that other guy back."

For a split second, an indiscernible emotion crossed Remus' face, but it was gone before Harry could decipher it. "That was me."

"You don't have any photos of them?" Ginny asked Harry. "Your aunt and uncle never had any?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

Ron frowned, but Dumbledore took that moment to call them back in.

"It is done," he said once the three were back inside.

"So the attacks should stop, then," said Harry.

Dumbledore nodded once, and Ginny laughed in relief.

"But I still have a question," Harry added.

"Yes?" said Dumbledore as if he were calling on a student who didn't understand a particularly difficult spell.

"How can I speak to snakes? I mean, I'm not the heir of Slytherin. Right?"

"Lord Voldemort is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin," Dumbledore said. "Unless I'm mistaken, he accidentally transferred some of his own powers to you that night."

"Seriously?" Harry let out a puff of air. "Lovely. So what everyone's been saying isn't completely off after all."

"Perhaps not, Harry, but magic is very complicated. No one will ever truly understand its ways." He turned to Remus. "Please take Miss Weasley to the hospital wing. I must tell her parents about this. They won't be angry," he said to Ginny, who had gone tense, "but they need to know."

Ginny relaxed again and allowed Remus to guide her out. Ron and Harry fell in step behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... surprise?


	17. A Basilisk? In My School?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore has a lot on his plate right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College will be starting up again soon. Awesome /sarcasm.

It felt like Harry's mind was going faste than the speed of light. Who was Remus? Why didn't he ever visit? What were his parents like when they were in school?

"Harry, I can practically see your mind whirling," Remus said. "You can ask."

Harry glanced at Ron, who nodded encouragingly.

"Okay. So, you're Remus... what?" It wasn't exactly the best thing to start with, but Harry didn't know what to say.

"Lupin."

Okay, now the name was really ringing a bell.

It was silent for a few seconds.

"What were my parents like?" Harry asked in a small voice.

Remus paused and let out a deep sigh, bittersweet memories swimming in his eyes. "Your mother was one of the kindest people I've ever met. She was also one hell of a witch, you do not want to get on her bad side."

Harry chuckled. "And Dad?"

"A lot of people would say he's one of the most irresponsible wizards in history. And he was, in his first few years. But he was also quite the mother hen, always looking out for me and the rest of his friends. He takes after his mother."

Harry didn't know what to say. True, Ron had admitted to knowing very little back on the first train ride, but he had implied James had always been rambunctious. "Why did I never hear from you if you knew my dad so well?"

A shadow crossed Remus' face. "Because I was a coward, still am. I thought you were safe." He turned to give Harry a look. "You  _ are _ safe, right?"

Harry automatically opened his mouth to say yes, but one look at Ron and he stopped. "I'm... alive?" he said.

But Remus did not look appeased. "And safe. Right?"

The silence was deafening.

Remus looked away and swore under his breath. "... never stopped by... checked in..." was all Harry caught.

"What's wrong with your relatives?" Ginny asked, thinking of Ron's words earlier that summer.

"Well, they gave me a fifty-piece pence and a toothpick for Christmas," Harry said dryly.

Ginny's mouth dropped. "That's it?" Even with their financial hardship her parents provided the best they could.

Harry shrugged. He didn't really like the thought of discussing this in front of Remus, even if he did like him already.

They finally reached the hospital wing. Mrs. Norris, Colin Creevey, and Justin Finch-Fletchley all laid on different beds, stiff as rocks.

Madam Pomfrey had Ginny take a seat on an empty bed on the other side and began looking her over.

The doors to the hospital wing opened and Dumbledore stepped inside with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley flung her arms around her daughter. Mr. Weasley rubbed her back soothingly.

"There, there. She's safe now. She'll be okay."

"Percy wrote to us — he knew something was wrong — I didn't do anything about it! I thought it was just homesickness."

"Mum, it's okay," said Ginny, looking slightly embarrassed. "Harry and Ron helped."

"Mostly Harry," Ron corrected, but his mother embraced him anyway.

"Miss Weasley, if I may, I must look into your memories," Dumbledore said.

"My — my what?"

"You said you couldn't remember certain parts. I believe if I look, I can find them."

Ginny looked at her parents and back. "O-okay."

She sat perfectly still as Dumbledore leaned close. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then the headmaster straightened up and Ginny slumped against her mother's shoulder.

"What did you see?" Mr. Weasley asked, running her fingers through Ginny's hair.

Dumbledore didn't answer right away. He turned to Harry and Ron. "You should go back to your common room. This is even more serious than I thought."

Harry and Ron entered the common room to see that nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Hermione's bushy hair was the only thing visible around the stack of books she had in front of her. She peeked over it and her eyes lit up. "There you are! What happened? Paisley told me you two and Ginny went somewhere, but she didn't know where."

"Headmaster's office. We found out what was causing the petrifications."

"You did? What was it?"

"Well, we didn't find out exactly," Ron backtracked. "But apparently the diary Ginny was writing in was cursed or something..."

Hermione listened in rapt attention. When they brought up Lucius Malfoy's role, she scowled. "There has to be something we can do about him."

"This is Lucius Malfoy we're talking about," Ron pointed out unhappily. "He'd probably bribe himself out."

"Assuming any charges even stick," Harry agreed.

Hermione's scowl deepened. Then her eyes slid to a point behind them and she said, "Hey, Professor Snape's here."

The potions master was standing in the middle of the common room, waiting until he had everyone's attention before speaking. "The headmaster has given explicit orders for students not to leave the common room at this time," he said. "If for whatever reason you must, go to your prefects. Not even the most troublemaking, attention-seeking should disregard this."

Ron shook his head slightly, thinking of his brothers.

"Meals will be served here until further notice," Snape continued. "That is all."

He left, his cloak billowing behind him.

"Do you think he takes lessons?" Jayson asked, his eyes having followed the movement.

Harry suppressed a snort despite himself.

As soon as Harry and Ron had left the hospital wing, Dumbledore headed for the fireplace located in Madam Pomfrey's office.

A moment later, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge arrived, brushing off soot from his robes.

"What is it, Albus?" he asked.

"It seems Miss Weasley had been victim to powerful magic," the headmaster explained, nodding to where Ginny sat. "It had been forcing her to open the Chamber of Secrets and release the monster inside."

"The Chamber of Secrets? It's real?" Fudge gaped.

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed it is. Now, Miss Weasley has had trouble remembering what she did, but with her permission, I have looked into her memories and saw the creature itself. A basilisk."

If possible, Fudge went even paler than normal. "A basilisk? In the school?"

Dumbledore dipped his head. "Yes, but the attacks should stop. However, having a basilisk under the school is, as you no doubt know, is very dangerous."

"Right, right." Fudge looked very put out. "We must get rid of it at once!"

He went back to the fireplace to call for Aurors.

Dumbledore turned to Remus, who had been silently staring at his feet the entire time. "Something is troubling you."

Remus lifted his head. "It's about Harry," he said heavily. "More specifically, his relationship with his relatives."

Dumbledore's eyes darkened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, look. The adults are actually competent. Who knew that could happen?


	18. There’s a Snake in the Chamber!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Daily Prophet shares some important events; Harry is called into the headmaster's office; the Dursleys receive a nasty surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and started giving titles to the chapters. If you have any ideas for any of them, even if they're already titled, feel free to share them at any point. This goes for future chapters as well.

For the next couple of days, the students were unable to leave the common room. Even Fred and George didn't dare to disobey, sensing something serious was happening. Of course, only a select number of Slytherins had any idea just how serious it was.

On the morning they were allowed to head down to the Great Hall as normal, there was a feeling the school itself was holding its breath. It wasn't until the owls arrived with the  _Daily Prophet_ did all hell break loose.

"A basilisk!" Daphne exclaimed. "Oh, Merlin! That's a class XXXXX beast!"

"Rethinking your stance on reptiles?" Jayson asked Sid, half joking.

"Fuck no," Sid said loudly, causing several Slytherins and a few Ravenclaws within earshot to shoot him dirty looks. "But I'm good on never meeting a basilisk ever."

Harry murmured in agreement and turned back to the newspaper.

Fudge had sent his best Aurors to Hogwarts to kill the basilisk. Dumbledore had used Ginny's memories and his own understanding of Parseltongue to open the Chamber and get them inside. One Auror died, two others grievously injured, but they succeeded in the end.

Because she was a minor, Ginny's name was never brought up officially. But her black book was shown toward the end, and some people took notice. Hardly anyone, including her dormmates, wanted to speak with her. Ginny didn't seem to care. She sat alone, not wanting to talk to even her brothers. Harry told them to give her a bit of space and wait until she was ready to talk to them.

"Some Slytherin your sister makes," Malfoy sneered.

Jayson gripped Ron's shoulder when he started to stand. "Sit down!" he hissed, and Ron reluctantly complied.

Something dropped into Harry's pocket, so light he barely noticed. He fumbled around until he felt the crinkled piece of parchment and pulled it out.

"What does it say?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore wants me to go up to the headmaster's office after breakfast. Don't know why." Harry put the note back in his pocket and continued eating.

When he stepped into the headmaster's office twenty minutes later, Harry knew something was up. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were there, as well as Remus Lupin and a portly man with a lime-green bowler hat. All of them looked rather solemn.

"Am I in trouble?" Harry asked.

"No, Mr. Potter," said the portly man. "But it has come to my attention that you are not... well cared for at your relatives. Is that true?"

Harry's back went rigid. He had not expected this. "Sort of. I mean, they don't hit me or anything."

"That is a very low bar," said Remus, frowning.

"And one that doesn't determine their goodness," Dumbledore added. "And, Cornelius, I believe you hadn't introduced yourself."

"Ah, yes. Where are my manners? Mr. Potter, I am Cornelius Fudge, the Minister." He shook Harry's hand.

"Hello," Harry said. "But what's going on? Why are we here?"

"Children are very precious to us, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said. "It is our duty to ensure your safety and wellbeing." Her voice went hard and she shot a disparaging glance at Dumbledore. "And if they are unfit to be guardian, you can change to a more suitable one."

"Like the Weasleys?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Er, not quite," Fudge said, looking distinctively uncomfortable.

"Then who?"

"Me." It was Remus that spoke, tentative and looking like he was already anticipating rejection.

"But before you agree," Fudge said swiftly, "there is one thing you should know about Mr. Lupin."

"Which is what?" Harry said, somewhat defensively.

Remus opened his mouth, but Fudge beat him to it, speaking with barely concealed contempt.

"He's a werewolf. Something he... neglected to say when he said he would take you under his wing."

Harry looked around. Remus looked more resigned than ever, Dumbledore was frowning at Fudge, and Fudge looked like he was waiting for what he believed was the inevitable.

But all Harry could say was a very confused "And?"

"And?" Fudge repeated incredulously. "Do you not know how dangerous they can be?"

"Cornelius," Dumbledore put in, "remember that Harry has not grown up in the wizarding world. He doesn't know how most people view dark creatures."

"You mean like how some purebloods don't like Muggle-borns?" Harry asked.

"Precisely, Harry," said Dumbledore as if Harry were in class taking a guess at which cleaning charm would be best for dirty laundry.

Fudge had shifted slightly, but he barreled on. "Mr. Potter, I'd advise you to think about giving this decision more thought. Werewolves cannot be trusted. They're just too dangerous, too unpredictable." He didn't seem to care that there was one literally within meters from him.

Remus barely withheld a flinch at the harsh words.

Harry was more sure of his decision than ever. "Well, I trust this werewolf," he said, almost challengingly.

"Remus did give a Vow he has no intentions to hurt Harry," Dumbledore added.

Fudge looked as though he didn't want to be reminded. "Yes, but accidents happen."

"Remus has been in full control of his tranformations for the past three years." Dumbledore stood firmly, and Fudge did not have any more objections.

"Very well. If the Ministry agrees, you will be transferred to Mr. Lupin's care."

Harry felt as though he was floating. He looked at Remus, who smiled broadly.

"And should you have any... issues," Fudge added with a sidelong glance at Remus, "do not hesitate to reach out."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Harry, only just refraining from sounding sarcastic.

Somehow, it got out that Harry may be changing guardians. Some people actually came awfully close to the reason behind it, that his current guardians — his aunt and uncle — were not very suitable. And with Harry being Harry, everything about Ginny faded to the background for the time being.

"What a year!" Ron remarked. The trio was huddled with a group of Slytherins working on their Charms assignment. "And there's still two months to go."

"Which gives us plenty of time to study," Hermione chirped.

Everyone around her groaned.

"I've been studying for hours!" Jayson said.

"No, you haven't!" Sid protested. "You've been staring at the same page for hours."

" _ Studying _ the same page! Besides, you can't talk, Dragon Boy!"

"You say that like it's an insult."

"What, do you want to marry a dragon?" Tracey asked.

"You don't?"

"Fair enough."

Harry snickered a little. Dragons  _ did _ sound better than people.

Vernon Dursley was enjoying yet another day with no Harry Potter. However, he was also dreading the summer in which he'd be back. Little did he know that that would be the last thing he'd be needing to worry about.

Petunia jumped when she heard Vernon bellowing with rage and scrambled to see what was happening. She was just in time to see Vernon being forced into a police car.

"What's happening?" she shrieked. Her eyes fell on the young man standing next to an officer. "You!"

"Is this Petunia Dursley?" the officer asked.

Remus nodded. His eyes looked almost amber; Petunia attributed it to the setting sun.

"What is happening?" Petunia demanded as she was cuffed.

"You and your husband are to be questioned for child abuse," the officer told her, opening the door of the other side of the car.

"Child abuse?" Petunia made the mistake of looking at Remus again and flinched. It was definitely not the light from the sun making his eyes look so animalistic.

"Yes,  _ Tuney _ ," he said, his lip curled. "Of your nephew."

"What?!" Vernon shouted. "What did that no-good freak say?"

"Vernon, please," Petunia whispered. She had met Remus once and hadn't given him much of a thought. Now, though, she was wishing she had never laid eyes on him.

"He's lying!"

The door closed, but Vernon continued to rave as the police car pulled out of the driveway.

Remus watched it go with an expression of grim satisfaction. Then, after making sure no one was watching, he Apparated.

And when Dudley would come home mere hours later, he would be taken to his Aunt Marge where he would hopefully learn some discipline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than I had anticipated. Oh well.


	19. Moving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of term; Harry moves in with Remus.

A barn owl flew in and dropped a letter in front of Harry, who only just moved his bowl of porridge out of the way in time. He opened it and read it through. After a moment, his eyes widened.

"What is it?" Hermione asked. His expression was one of astonishment, but she couldn't tell if it was a good one or not.

At least until he met her gaze, his green eyes bright and victorious. "I can move in with Remus."

Ron let out a whoop and made a move to hug him before coming to a clumsy stop. "Er..."

Harry laughed. "Go ahead," he said, and was nearly crushed by Ron's enthusiasm as he pulled him in. Hermione joined in, wrapping her arms around them both.

News traveled quickly and by lunch, everyone knew of Harry's change in guardianship.

Ron's brothers came over to the Slytherin table and began eating like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"No need to steal the car again, I guess," said George, letting out a gusty sigh.

"Like you need an excuse to do that," Harry countered.

George's eyes lit up. "Very true, Harrykins."

"You will not take the car," Percy said sharply before either twin could start making plans right then and there.

"Ah, Perce, you're ruining all our fun!" Fred whined.

Percy rolled his eyes, then turned to Harry. "Congratulations, Harry. I'm sure Mr. Lupin will be a wonderful guardian."

Harry grinned at him, but he could see not everyone shared the sentiment.

Daphne was the first to voice her concerns. "Even... even though he's... a werewolf?"

Harry bristled, his fingers curling more tightly around his fork. "Excuse me?"

Daphne winced at his expression but continued. "Look, Harry, I'm sure Lupin's not a bad person, but when he transforms? Who knows what he's like?"

"He has full control over himself," Harry said. "Besides, anyone would be better than going back to the Dursleys."

Daphne conceded this with a nod.

"At least they won't have fleas." Harry wasn't surprised to hear Parkinson add her own two cents.

"If I find any, I'll make sure to send them your way," Harry retorted, making Parkinson curl her lip.

"Two Galleons Potter has a new scar when he gets back," Theodore Nott said.

Parkinson, Bulstrode, Malfoy, and his cronies laughed haughtily.

"Ignore them," said Ron.

"It's no wonder you're so eager to move in with a werewolf," Malfoy goaded. "They're on the same level as Weasleys and Mudbloods."

There was a clatter as Ron dropped his fork and made to stand up, but Hermione yanked him back down. "Ron, no! The teachers are watching!"

"Five points from Slytherin, Malfoy," Percy snapped.

Malfoy sneered at him but turned back to his plate.

Daphne wasn't the only one with reservations about Harry living with a werewolf, but she was one of the few who had legitimate reason to worry. Most people thought Remus would tear Harry apart as soon as he got the chance and some even thought he was better off with his relatives.

"Rubbish!" Ginny said to a classmate, her confidence returning. "At least give Lupin a chance before judging him."

Privately, Harry thought Remus was as far from a slavering monster — that was one of the nicer things he heard, of he was being honest — as possible. He wrote frequently, mostly to get to know Harry before the summer. Once, he accidentally sent a Howler early in the morning, which startled the living daylights out of everyone in the dorm. Sid, who had fallen onto the floor in a heap, sat up grumbling that he had half a mind to send one back screaming about turtles.

Hermione found the whole thing amusing. "You'll still write to us, won't you?" she said once the laughter subsided.

"Course," Harry reassured her. "Provided there aren't any elves stealing the mail."

"Yeah, let's hope there isn — AAGGHH!!" Ron yelped as a loud pop rang through the air.

Dobby the house-elf squeaked and jumped back. "Terribly sorry, sir! Dobby didn't mean to startle you!"

"It's okay," Ron said, reclaiming his seat.

"You aren't here to convince me not to move in with Remus, are you?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, no, Harry Potter. Dobby wishes you and Lupy the very best. No, Dobby is here to say Master has let Dobby go!"

That was when Harry saw the sock in his hands. "I'm... sorry?"

"Don't be!" Dobby beamed. "Dobby has never been happier! But now that Dobby is free, he can do whatever he wants! And Dobby wants to serve the great Harry Potter!"

"Serve?" said Hermione, narrowing her eyes. "Like a slave?"

"No, no, Miss Grangy," Dobby reassured her. "Like a friend!"

"Er, friends don't  _ serve _ each other," Harry said slowly while Ron snorted at the nickname. "They help if they want, but —"

"Then Dobby will help!" Dobby broke in insistently, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Just call when you need me!"

Harry exchanged a glance with his friends. "Um... okay?"

Dobby beamed. "Dobby can't wait to serve — help — the great Harry Potter and his Wheezy and Grangy!"

And with that, he was gone, leaving the baffled trio in silence.

Finally, Ron turned to Hermione. "So, Grangy —"

"Don't start, Wheezy."

The train reached the station and Harry grinned when he saw Remus standing with the Weasleys and Grangers. He looked a little tired, but he smiled warmly as Harry and his friends got off the train.

"There you are, Harry. You ready to go?"

"Yeah."

"Remember to write to us," Hermione said.

"Sure thing, Grangy," Harry replied, making her purse her lips and Ron laugh. "And you, Wheezy." That shut him up.

"And call me," Sid added. "We hadn't even started talking about Testudines yet."

"Testu-what?"

"Exactly. Later."

Jayson rolled his eyes. "He means turtles and tortoises. See you next year, Har." He gave a salute and pulled his sister along to where their parents stood.

Harry had to stifle a snort of amusement at the look of utter bewilderment on Remus' face. "They're like that all the time," he explained. "By the way, Sid might send a Howler as revenge."

Remus blinked. "Thanks for the heads up." He cleared his throat. "Now, what I'm about to do is Apparate. That is basically teleporting from one place to another."

"I think I did that once some years ago," Harry said. "I ended up on the school rooftop."

"Ah, but you hadn't deliberately done it, I presume?"

"No."

"That's to be expected. You have to be at least seventeen to Apparate. Think of it as getting your driver's license."

Harry nodded. Now that he could understand.

"Brace yourself," Remus warned, gripping Harry's shoulder. "It's gonna feel weird, especially the first time."

Harry nodded and Remus turned on the spot. A strange sensation shot through Harry; it felt like he was being squeezed through a tube.

When the world came back into focus, Harry found himself staring at a cottage.

"Welcome to your new home," said Remus as they entered.

Harry looked around. It was more cluttered than Privet Drive and much more worn down. There was a couch sitting in the living room, the arms looking like they would fall off at the slightest touch. A table sat between the couch and the fireplace. A few chips here and there showed it had been through some rough times. The fireplace looked as though it was barely used. The paint on the walls was faded and discolored.

He realized Remus was watching him with the same trepidation Ron had when he and the twins had brought him to the Burrow for the first time.

"It's not much, I know, but —"

"I love it already," Harry said sincerely and Remus beamed.

It took some time getting used to, but Harry was quick to adapt. That didn't mean his old habits died away immediately, though.

On the first morning, for instance, Harry woke up and went to prepare breakfast. There was only him and Remus, but he ended up making enough to feed the entire Weasley family. Remus simply put away the leftovers for later with a charm that preserved food to an extended period of time once they were finished eating.

"Like a fridge!" Harry said.

"Yes, a fridge. But really, Harry, were you actually expected to cook this much so early?"

"Yeah." Harry didn't understand why Remus was looking at him like he had sprouted a tail.

"And if you got hurt?" he asked. "Like burning yourself? Or the food?"

Harry shrugged. "If it's just me that got burnt, I was supposed to continue. And if I burnt the food, I wouldn't get fed."

Remus shook his head in disbelief. "That's... that's not... no, no, no. You aren't required to cook all the meals. I mean, if you want to make something, I won't stop you, but it'll be up to you."

Up to you. That was a phrase Harry never heard directed at him. "Okay."

Remus watched him go back to his room. He had heard about what Harry had been through, but it was still jarring to hear about those horrible people — he refused to refer to them as Harry's relatives. He had only met them once, but he had never felt comfortable in their presence. And now he outright loathed them. Not even Snape elicited that much anger.

A couple weeks passed and it was the night of the first full moon since Harry moved in with Remus.

Remus had joked he was basically an old man in the week leading up to and a few days after his transformation with the aching limbs and weariness and crankiness, and sure enough, he was.

Harry, being very intrigued by werewolves, went into Diagon Alley to find books on them. There was plenty of information on werewolves, but a lot of it was clearly biased and highlighted how dangerous they were. So Hermione sent him a copy of an older book she found that seemed to hold much more accurate facts.

"Consider it an early birthday gift," she wrote.

So Harry pored over the pages, taking in every detail as if his life depended on it. It was the morning after when he found something funny.

"Hey, Remus, have you heard of this one werewolf who just plays dead during their transformations?"

That statement alone with no context caught Remus' attention. "Wait, what?" He peered at Harry blearily, his hair falling over his forehead.

"Sorry, I can come back." In his eagerness to show what he found, Harry had forgotten just how tired Remus would be.

"No, no, I'm wide awake." Remus yawned. "See?"

Harry nodded. "Riiight. I made breakfast." This time, he had remembered to not overdo it.

"Sounds good." The words were barely discernible, his eyelids getting heavier. "I'll... be there... in... a..." A snore cut him off.

Harry laughed softly and pulled the blanket over him. "Sweet dreams, Moony," he murmured, and kissed his forehead.

Once Remus was actually awake, they sat down to discuss what Harry learned.

"The guy just plays dead?" Remus said. "Why is something like that in a book of werewolves?"

"It's supposed to show that werewolves are still people, which means they act like idiots whether they have fur growing out their arse or not."

Remus considered this for a moment. "Any other idiotic things they mention?"

As it turned out, there were plenty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot I wanted to free Dobby, but the time for Harry to trick Lucius never came around, so I had to improvise something that was less cool but still got the job done.


	20. It’s Your Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is determined to make Harry's thirteenth birthday the best day ever. And he'll start by failing to bake a cake.

In all the years he'd lived at Privet Drive, everything was supposed to clean and tidy, with not even the slightest fingerprint on the window. But when Harry came down on the thirty-first of July, he found himself staring at what was definitely not a clean and tidy kitchen. Several baking utensils were strewn across the counters and there was a blanket of flour on everything.

In the middle of all of this was a very haggard-looking Remus sitting on the floor with a wooden spoon in one hand and a layer of flour on his pants and in his hair.

He lifted his head and gave a sheepish grin. "Er... happy birthday?"

Harry blinked a few times, his mind still sluggish from sleep. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Your birthday. I tried to bake you a cake." He gestured to the mess. "I technically succeeded. Although I'm not certain the cake will taste g — oof!"

Harry had flung his arms around him, uncaring that his own pajamas would be dirty now. "Thank you."

"And I told the Weasleys we'd be going over this evening if you'd like. They'll be preparing something that's probably way better than this cake."

"I'd like that. And I'm sure the cake will be fine."

But a few minutes later, once Remus had cleaned up the kitchen and cut out a slice, Harry was pushing the cake away with a wrinkled nose after one bite.

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I should've just bought something from the bakery."

"No, it's fine. The Dursleys didn’t even acknowledge my birthday."

Remus just stared. "Well, that was fucking stupid of them."

One thing that Harry had quickly learned was that Remus swore a lot. He tried to censor himself for Harry's sake at first, but quickly gave up when he realized it was a losing battle.

"Just don't say these words in front of your teachers and you'll be fine," he had told Harry, ruffling his hair.

(If Harry had an impulse to say fuck in front of Professor Snape when term started again, no one had to know.)

Next was Harry's presents. For a few seconds, he just stared at the neon orange package that most likely came from Jayson.

"That's a... really bright color," Remus remarked, bemused.

"You get used to it," Harry replied, taking that one first and discovering he had been correct.

Once finished with presents, which consisted of no meager items like a sticky note or a used staple, Remus took Harry out to London, where they wandered around the shops and even went to the zoo.

Harry hadn't realized just how much he had missed out on. It was much more fun seeing the animals without worrying about tantrums from a person a month older than you and actually having the freedom to buy what you wanted. Inside the reptile house, Harry passed by the boa constrictor's exhibit and wondered where it was now.

By the time they exited, it was around noon.

"I've never tried pizza before," Harry admitted. His eyes bulged when Remus bought three slices just for him.

"This is too much, surely," he protested.

"First of all, my name is Remus. Secondly, no, it isn't. Now, how about dessert?"

"Well, a cookie wouldn't be too bad," Harry conceded, thinking of the cake from that morning.

He got two.

They swung by the gift shop on their way out, where Harry picked up a journal with animals on it, thinking Ginny would like it. He also couldn't help but gaze longingly at a stuffed snake. The only toys he ever had were ones that Dudley didn’t want anymore, which meant they were usually broken or torn up. But Remus had already spent enough on him to last a month or two, so he passed.

Remus furrowed his eyebrows when he saw Harry put down the snake with clear reluctance. Well, that wouldn't do. He reached down, scooped up the snake, and went to check out.

Crack!

"Mum, Harry's here!" Ginny called, peering through the window.

Mrs. Weasley looked up, alarmed. "Oh, goodness! They're earlier than I expected! Invite them in, will you?"

"Sure thing." Ginny went outside. "Hi, Harry."

Harry grinned. "Hey, Gin. What's your mum making? Smells delicious."

"Wait and find out. She wants it to be a surprise." Ginny led him and Remus in.

Mrs. Weasley beamed at Harry when he came in, but she didn't come over to embrace him as her hands were occupied. "It's good to see you, dear. Take a seat, dinner is almost finished."

"Good evening, Harry," greeted Percy, sounding as if he was talking to the Minister. "How are you?"

"Doing great. And you?"

Before Percy could answer, there was a loud explosion and George and Fred walked in with an unusually normal air about them.

"What was that?" said Harry.

"Whatever do you mean?" Fred rounded his eyes and gave him a puzzled look.

"Nothing." Harry hadn't really expected an answer.

He and Ron played chess until Mrs. Weasley announced the food was ready, then they all gathered around for an amazing dinner.

Throughout the meal, Mrs. Weasley kept piling roast beef onto Harry's plate until Remus gently told her to let Harry get his own.

It was nearing nine o'clock when Remus finally decided he should take Harry home. Harry, yawning, didn't protest. He bade the Weasleys good-bye and was Apparated back to the cottage; this time, it didn't feel quite as nauseating.

"You better get some sleep," Remus said, patting Harry on the shoulder.

"Okay. Night, Moony."

"Night."

Harry changed into his pajamas, feeling lighter than he had in years. This had been, by far, the best day ever, even better than winning the House Cup.

He settled the stuffed snake, which he had named Azure for her mottled blue coloring, on the bed and started to climb in, only to pause when something moved out of the corner of his eye.

He went over to the window. It was hard to see, but there was just enough moonlight to illuminate the dark shape in front of the trees. Some kind of animal, that much Harry could tell, but what exactly? And why did he feel like it was looking right into his soul?

A cloud covered the moon, and what little Harry could see of the creature vanished. By the time the cloud passed, the creature was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to look up meals in the UK every time I want to describe what they're having, but more often than not I end up not listing them anyway.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	21. Blackout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius Black has escaped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone got a better idea for a title, I’m figuratively all ears.

31 July 1993

Sirius Black continued to look at the image of Remus and Harry laughing together long after Cornelius Fudge had first given it to him. His vision blurred and he blinked to clear it. For the past twelve years, Harry had been living with his aunt and uncle, people Sirius had not taken a liking to. And no one had cared to check in on him. Not even Dumbledore, although he expressed regret for this. Not Remus, but he had stepped in now.

Remus... Sirius stared at the photo, his heart aching for his dear friend. They were all that was left of the original four, but Remus thought it was only him.

Sirius turned away to pick up the newspaper clipping he had just grabbed. The Weasleys family stood in front, waving at the camera.

And... wait. Sirius sat up straighter. Did his eyes deceive him? No, there on the youngest boy's shoulder was a rat. And it was missing a toe.

"Peter," he snarled, his handsome face twisted into an expression of hatred. "You little traitor. I will find you if it's the last thing I do."

1 August 1993

Sirius Black's face seemed to be gazing deep into Remus' soul. A wave of emotions flooded him, but he didn't know which was strongest, the anger, the longing, or the grief.

"Morning, Moony!" came Harry's chipper voice, unaware of Remus' inner turmoil. It wasn’t until he put down his plate and looked up did he see his expression and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Eat your breakfast first," Remus replied flatly.

Harry cocked his head to one side and Remus had to wrench his gaze away because he had never looked more like James. He turned his attention to his plate, which had some leftover potatoes and steak from the previous night.

The distraction gave Remus some time to collect his thoughts. Why had Sirius escaped only now? Not that he wanted him out, but it just didn't make sense that he'd wait until twelve years later. Unless he had been plotting the whole time — no, that didn't make sense, either. Or maybe it did. Remus pushed the thought away and took a sip from his coffee, which had long since cooled down.

Harry finished eating far too soon for Remus' liking and went to put his plate in the sink. He came back seconds later and looked at Remus expectantly.

"Remember how I mentioned how I was one of your dad's friends?" he began.

Harry nodded. Remus spent a lot of time talking about the Marauders. Apparently, there was a map, but Remus didn't know where it was now.

"Well, one of those other friends is Sirius Black." Just saying the name made his chest tighten. He pushed the newspaper over.

Harry took a moment to stare at the image. Remus could almost see the memories fighting for his attention. Then he skimmed the article, his expression closing off until Remus couldn't read it anymore.

"He's after me, isn't he?"

Remus nodded with a heavy sigh.

"But why? Is he a supporter of Voldemort or something?"

Remus flinched. It had been years since he last heard that claim. "When your parents went into hiding, they had a Secret Keeper, someone they trusted to keep out unwanted intruders."

"And Black was the Secret Keeper?" Harry guessed. He looked as though he was about to hurl.

"Yes. And he betrayed them. He betrayed you. And me." Remus tore his gaze away from his green eyes.

Harry took a moment to take this in. "It's not really all that surprising," he finally said in a voice that was too steady to be real. "After all, I did defeat Voldemort. Somehow. I'm bound to have enemies."

"Yes, but you're a child. Your enemies are adults that probably know a hundred ways to make your life miserable."

Harry looked at him, wide eyed, and Remus took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you."

"I know. And I'm grateful for all you've done. But we're not alone in this, Remus. The Weasleys know how to pack a punch. Literally. Mr. Weasley nearly pounded Lucius Malfoy into a pulp last summer."

Remus chortled at the image. "Yes, Arthur is one scary wizard."

Soon, it was time to get Harry's supplies for the year. They went to Diagon Alley and met up with the Weasleys. Ron started babbling about his time in Egypt to Harry, talking about the pyramids and how the twins tried to shut Percy in one of them.

"That sounds a bit harsh," said Harry, wincing a little.

"I know, but that's Fred and George for you."

They were joined by Hermione in the Apothecary and went off together, but only after Remus made them promise to come by the Leaky Cauldron as soon as they were done.

"He's a bit overprotective, isn't he?" Ron remarked.

"Well, with Sirius Black out, I can't blame him," Harry replied.

"Yeah. How have you been living with Lupin, anyway?"

Harry grinned widely. "It's great! He's really laidback most of the time and likes to read. But he's absolutely rubbish at baking, you should have seen the cake he made for my birthday..."

They went into a magical creature shop to get Hermione's owl and something for Scabbers, who was apparently rather ill. He also seemed jumpy, but Ron didn't know what the cause of it was.

They were interrupted by an orange blur that lunged itself at Scabbers, who wriggled free and took off. Ron and Harry threw the doors open and raced after the rat.

They found him and waited for Hermione. She came out holding the large ginger cat that had tried to attack Scabbers and the rat tonic Ron had forgotten to purchase.

They went by the Leaky Cauldron and the first thing Harry noticed was the strain between Remus and Mrs. Weasley. They bade each other farewell rather coolly.

"What happened?" Harry asked once they got home.

"Molly isn't happy that I told you," Remus explained, removing his jacket and hanging it up. "I don't blame her, but at the same time, you deserve to know."

Harry went to his room to pack his trunk. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a door open and the familiar voice of Albus Dumbledore greeting Remus. He decided to wait until they were done speaking before going back down and took his time packing.

Remus knocked as he was finishing up.

"I heard Dumbledore's voice," said Harry, letting him in. "What did he want?"

"Well, he's down two professors — Kettleburn retired — and I'm guessing because of my... history with Sirius Black, he thought I'd be the perfect candidate for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

Harry brightened. "You're going to teach us? Awesome!” He furrowed his eyebrows. “But wait, what about the Ministry? Fudge didn't seem to particularly like you last time I checked."

"He still doesn't, I'm sure. But given they are satisfied with my performance as your guardian, they're apparently willing to give me a chance. And I have no doubt I'll be sacked by the end of the year." Remus shook his head wryly. "Probably because I was late for breakfast by ten seconds."

"Well, be there ten seconds early, then."

“That will require me to get up an hour earlier, so no.”

"Teachers aren't about to start riding the train, are they?" Sid asked, looking at Remus in confusion.

"He insisted," Harry told him. "The full moon was last night, so he decided to take a nap on here."

As if in answer, Remus snorted in his sleep.

Sid slowly took the seat next to Harry. "D'you think he'll be a better teacher than Lockhart?"

"A turnip would make a better teacher than Lockhart," Ron pointed out.

The compartment door opened and Jayson stepped in.

"Where have you been?" said Sid.

"With Kyra and Ginny," Jayson answered. He mustn't have noticed Remus yet; he was speaking at a normal volume. "You wouldn't believe how chatty those girls can g — oh, hello."

Remus was lifting his head, blinking tiredly at him. "Wha'?"

"It's just Jayson," said Harry. Remus nodded and fell back asleep at once. "He's our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Harry explained to Jayson.

"Figured." Jayson sat down. "Anyway, Kyra and Ginny. They'll be making friendship bracelets before the first years are even Sorted."

They continued to talk quietly among themselves. Meanwhile, rain poured outside, thickening until lanterns had to be turned on to see. Somehow, Remus stayed asleep throughout all this.

Okay, he wasn't totally asleep. He slipped in and out of consciousness when a particularly loud gust of wind rattled the train and when Sid momentarily forgot to keep his voice down and told Jayson that terrapins were freshwater turtles in an exasperated voice — "That was one of the first things I taught you"; "Okay,  _ Professor Amsel _ ."

The next time he awoke, he felt the tension in the air and opened his eyes to total darkness. "Harry?"

"Remus!" Harry breathed out in relief. "The train stopped. I don't know what's going on."

Remus conjured up flames in his hand, illuminating the fearful expressions on their faces. Ginny and a girl he presumed to be Kyra were sitting by the door; they must have come in when the lights went out.

"Stay where you are," he ordered them, standing and moving toward the door.

It opened before he could reach it. Remus stared in horror as the cloaked figure — a dementor — stood there. It sucked in a long breath, and an intense cold swept over them.

Remus' chest seemed to constrict as the chill pierced his very soul. Then there was a thud and a gasp from Hermione and he realized Harry had fallen.

Closing his eyes briefly, he removed his wand. "None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks."

The dementor didn't move. Remus desperately thought of when Harry had tried the pizza for the first time. The wonder and delight in his eyes seemed to give him strength and he murmured, "Expecto patronum."

A silvery white figure shot from the end of his wand and the dementor fled the compartment, taking the cold with it. The lights came back on and the train began to move once more.

"Harry! Harry, are you all right?" Ron's voice sounded behind him.

Remus turned just in time to see Ron slap Harry across the face.

Green eyes shot open at once. "W-what? Was that a... a dementor?"

"Indeed it was." Remus learned down and helped him back into a seat. "Are you okay, Harry?" he asked softly, one hand on his shoulder.

Harry didn't answer right away. He looked around to the others. They were all very pale. Jayson was holding Kyra close, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words.

"Who screamed?" Harry wondered.

"No one screamed," Ron said nervously.

Remus fished around in his cloak and pulled out a slab of chocolate. "Eat," he said, breaking off pieces and handing them out. "I need to speak with the driver."

He exited the compartment.

Jayson released Kyra to take a bite of his piece and color flooded back into his face. "Lupin has the right idea," he said in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. "Carrying chocolate around."

Kyra laughed weakly and leaned against the backseat, chewing her piece. "Chocolate's the answer to everything."

Remus came back in. "Are you okay, Harry?" he asked, reverting back to the fatherly image Harry had come to recognize. "Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

"No, I'm fine."

But as the train continued on its way, Harry couldn't help but wonder, who was that person who screamed? And why did they sound so familiar?


	22. Who Let the Grim In?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malfoy's a nuisance. No surprise there. Remus is a great teacher. Also not a surprise. Sirius Black tries to break in. Somehow a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps phone screen* This bad boy can fit so many words

"Is it true, Potter? Did you faint? You actually fainted?" Malfoy asked as they were getting off the carriages. His face was alight with glee.

"Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron.

"Did you faint as well, Weasley? Did the scary old dementor frighten you as well?"

"Is there a problem?" came Remus' mild voice.

Malfoy gave him an insolent stare. "Oh, no,  _ Professor _ ." He smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and they went in.

"Granger!" Professor McGonagall was walking their way. "I need to have a word with you."

Hermione looked surprised, but she pushed her way past the other students to her side. Ron and Harry were forced to enter the Great Hall without her.

Remus went to take a seat at the High Table. Harry saw Snape curl his lip at him, to which Remus responded with a curt nod.

After the Sorting, Dumbledore welcomed Remus and Hagrid to their respective positions and at last the feast began.

"So what did McGonagall want?" Ron asked Hermione, who had arrived just after the Sorting.

"Just wanted to go over my timetable," she replied and Ron, too hungry to really question her further, let it drop.

All throughout breakfast and lunch the following day, Malfoy did ridiculous impressions of Harry fainting. Quite abruptly, his plate lurched upward, smashing into his face.

Harry looked around to Hermione, who shrugged, but Ron was moving his arm under the table in a manner that reminded Harry of when Dudley tried to smuggle candy to his room. Feeling better, Harry finished the last of his food.

Care of Magical Creatures was their next class, so the Slytherins all headed down to Hagrid's hut. Soon, the Gryffindors arrived as well and Hagrid began class.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," Malfoy complained. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him —"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, Malfoy would complain to his father if a tree looked even slightly bent.

Hagrid brought out a dozen hippogriffs, strange yet beautiful creatures that had the front end of an eagle and the back of a horse.

"Don't look a gift horse in the... rear?" Jayson muttered, tilting his head to one side and frowning.

Harry rolled his eyes again.

"First thing you gotta know about hippogriffs is they're proud," Hagrid explained. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, cause it might be the last thing you do."

Harry could hear Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle muttering among themselves. Ron glanced at them and whispered in Harry's ear, "Someone's gonna get hurt."

"You always wait for the Hippogriff to make the first move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? You walk towards him, and you bow, and you wait. If he bows back, you're allowed to touch him. If he doesn't bow, then get away from him sharpish, cause those talons hurt."

"Right — who wants to go first?"

No one volunteered; not even Harry was keen. But he could see the desperation on Hagrid's face, so he squared his shoulders and stepped forward. He reckoned this was pretty much how you'd approach any animal unfamiliar with you, minus the bowing, which made Harry feel rather vulnerable. Although he'd probably choose to go out via Buckbeak, the gray hippogriff, that was defending itself than a furious Vernon.

Next thing he knew, Harry was on Buckbeak's back and soaring into the sky above the paddock.

Back on the ground, Sid was watching with consternation. "I am so glad that's not me," he said under his breath.

"Why?" Hermione asked, taking her eyes off the tiny dot in the air.

"I'm not really a fan of heights. It's just so... high."

It was only when Harry was back on the ground did Sid let out an audible sigh.

"Are you sure you shouldn't be a Gryffindor?" he said as everyone applauded. "That was intense!"

Harry shrugged. "It wasn't all that bad."

"Good work, Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Okay, who else wants to go? Don't worry, I won't make you fly," he added to Sid.

Looking immensely relieved, Sid allowed Jayson to drag him over to the bronze hippogriff. Ron and Hermione went to the chestnut one.

They did well. Ron got to touch his hippogriff almost immediately, which he did with a wide grin. Tracey could be heard murmuring complimentary things like "Such a beautiful creature you are" and "Your feathers are so soft."

Malfoy, while also successful in getting Buckbeak to bow to him, looked like he was having as much fun as a child doing chores on a beautiful summer day. "This is very easy," he said, his voice carrying over to Harry. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it ... I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?"

Ron glanced back at Harry, his eyes reflecting the same unease. Harry unobtrusively moved closer to Malfoy, who was still talking.

"Are you, you ugly great brute?"

Buckbeak, whose sharp orange eyes were staring down at Malfoy almost suspiciously, squawked with anger. He reared up on his hind legs, talons glinting in the sunlight.

Harry raced forward and yanked Malfoy back just as the talons came down slashing the air where he had been. They collapsed on the ground and braced themselves.

But the second blow never came. Hagrid had wrestled Buckbeak's collar back on and was pulling him away from Malfoy.

"You bloody idiot," Harry snapped, glaring at Malfoy. "Didn't your father ever tell you not to antagonize dangerous animals?"

Malfoy glared back. "Didn't your father tell you — oh, wait. Your father's dead."

Ron came forward and started to pull Harry back as if sensing he was about to explode.

"And you'd know all about dangerous animals, wouldn't you, Potter? How's Lupin, by the way? Did you teach him some tricks?"

Now both Harry and Ron had to be held back. Jayson, Sid, and Blaise had all grabbed a hold of them as they lunged.

"That's enough, Draco," Blaise said sharply. "Just be grateful Potter got you out of the mess you created and shut up."

Malfoy looked at him in surprise. Harry couldn't blame him; Blaise had never stood up for him before. "Finally choosing a side, are you?"

"I'm choosing common sense. Stop trying to rile everyone up and you might just survive to adulthood."

Malfoy looked as though he wanted to say more, but Hagrid had just called for the end of class. Without another word, he nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, and all three stormed out.

"It kinda sucks that the Grim is an omen for death."

Several heads turned to face Jayson, who was swirling his stew around absentmindedly.

"Meaning?" Blaise prompted.

"It's a dog, right? A big black dog?"

"Yeah..." Harry raised an eyebrow at him, willing him to get to the point.

"Well, it sucks because it's a dog; dogs are big balls of fluff. If the Grim wasn't related to death, I'd pet it." As if that settled it, Jayson sat back and took a big mouthful of stew.

Harry looked at Ron, who simply shrugged in a  _ what-can-you-do-about-it _ way.

Daphne, however, looked thoughtful. "Now that you mention it, it does sound a bit sad."

"You won't find me risking it," said Ron. "My uncle died after seeing one."

"Coincidence," Hermione put in, unbothered. She poured herself some pumpkin juice.

Sid made a face. "You're joking, right? Grims are scary!"

"So scared that people die." Hermione spoke with finality. "It's not an omen, it's the cause of death. Besides, Harry's smart. He's not gonna keel over just because of a myth."

Tracey scoffed. "You're just saying that because Professor Trelawney said you don't have the right aura."

Hermione shot to her feet. "If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared to my Arithmancy class!"

With that, she stormed off.

"Arithmancy?" Jayson looked puzzled. "When the hell she did she go there?"

Ron shrugged. "According to her timetable, the same time we were in Divination."

"That... that doesn't make sense," Daphne said. "Anyway, we have Defense Against the Dark Arts tomorrow."

"That's right," said Tracey. "What do you think Lupin will be like?" She turned to Harry. "He's really nice, isn't he? And the Gryffindors said he knows what he's doing."

"Did he tell you what else he'd be doing?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "Can't show me any favoritism," he said, much to the others' disappointment. "But it'll be worth it, I just know it."

"He seems like the kind of guy who knows what he's doing," Sid commented.

Harry barely refrained from snorting, remembering how, in the last week before term, Remus was frantically going through his notes and swearing up a storm when he couldn't find his quill, which was sitting out in plain sight.

The wardrobe flew open and out stepped a clown that grinned.

"Riddikulus!" Jayson said.

The clown's wig and red nose fell off.

"Excellent, Jayson!" Remus exclaimed. "Tracey! Forward!"

A giant jack-in-the-box loomed over her.

"Riddikulus!"

It fell over with a thud.

"Obsidian!"

An airplane. Sid had it turning into a featherless pigeon.

Next was Ron, who made the giant spider's legs vanish.

The classroom was filled with laughter as each Slytherin transformed their fear into something less frightening.

"Harry!" Remus called.

Harry stepped forward eagerly. The boggart, which was currently a shrunken troll, transformed. A piercing coldness not unlike the one that had filled the compartment spread throughout the room; Harry's wand wavered in his hand as a woman's scream echoed in his ears.

Quite abruptly, the sensation vanished, and when Harry looked up, he saw that Remus had thrown himself in front of him. The dementor had transformed into a silvery white orb.

"Riddikulus!" Remus intoned and it burst into smoke and disappeared. "Well done, all of you! Five points to everyone who faced the boggart and five to Hermione and Harry. Harry, will you stay behind for a moment, please?"

The Slytherins filed out of the classroom. Ron lingered by the door.

"Go on, Ron," Remus said kindly. "He's not in trouble."

Ron looked at Harry, who nodded, then finally exited.

"Here." Remus handed Harry a chunk of chocolate, which he took.

"Why did I feel its effects?" Harry asked as he bit off a piece. "It was just a boggart."

"Which can replicate one's fear," Remus put in, "including a dementor's chill. Feel better now?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. Run along now. I'm sure you have plenty of homework to get to."

Draco Malfoy must've already spread the story of the lesson. A few older Slytherins pulled their hoods up in imitation of dementors as Harry entered the common room.

"Looks like you're getting the hang of it, Potter," Malfoy said. "You didn't faint this time."

Too weary to make a retort, Harry ignored him, going to join his friends at a table. "Hey."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Well, don't you sound chipper this afternoon."

"Yes, well. Dementors do that to people, even boggart ones."

"So I've heard." Ginny glanced to where Malfoy was pretending to swoon. "You know, I have to give him credit where credit's due. He could make a great actor."

Harry snorted, feeling a little better.

A purr made him look around to see Crookshanks approaching them.

Ron edged away when he saw the spider in his mouth. "Does he have to eat that in front of us?"

"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" Hermione said.

Paisley cooed and scratched him between the ears affectionately. "He's so cute!" she said, and Hermione beamed at her.

"Yeah, he's adorable," Ron said flatly, still watching with trepidation. "Just keep him away from me. I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."

Paisley continued to stroke Crookshanks head. "You know, I've never really been a cat person, but I'm starting to rethink that."

"Why didn't you like cats?" Ginny asked her.

"Oh, no real reason. They just never appealed to me. Not like dogs do — oh!"

At that moment, Crookshanks pounced on Ron's bag.

"Oi!" Ron exclaimed, grabbing his bag and struggling to free it from the cat's clutches. Scabbers was thrown free and raced for the safety of a set of drawers. Crookshanks hissed angrily, unable to reach him.

Ron and Hermione ran over to get their pets.

"Look at him!" Ron said, dangling Scabbers by the tail. "He's skin and bones! You keep that cat away from him!"

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" Hermione said, cradling Crookshanks against her chest. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"

"Then maybe you should keep them separate?" Paisley piped up nervously.

"What do you think I've been trying to do?" Ron shouted, making her back away.

"There's no need to yell at her," Ginny snapped. "And, Hermione, be careful where you keep Crookshanks. We don't need any more close calls!"

Ron marched away and paused in front of Malfoy, who had moved to the entrance to the dorms when Crookshanks had jumped. "Move," he said in a hard voice, and for once, Malfoy did without a snarky remark.

The first Hogsmeade weekend was on Halloween. Though Remus had signed the form, he kept fretting over the dementors and Sirius Black until Harry promised he would not leave his friends' sight.

The three stood in the queue waiting for Filch's approval. Once they got past his scrutiny, they finally entered Hogsmeade.

It was bustling with activity. The students that had been ahead of the trio were already entering the shops or milling around the windows.

"Where to first?" Hermione said.

"There's Honeydukes." Ron pointed to a shop on the left. It was completely packed with people, so Harry was glad to leave when they did about fifteen minutes later, the taste of the new fudge they had been sampling singing on his tongue.

They passed Zonko's, where Harry caught a glimpse of Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. Hermione was especially fascinated by the post office with the two-hundred or so owls that were color-coded depending on how quickly you needed to send something.

Inside the Three Broomsticks, they all had foaming mugs of butterbeer. The warmth sent a shudder through Harry's body.

As they continued on, Hermione paused. "Is that...?"

She was looking out at a small building standing alone away from Hogsmeade.

"The Shrieking Shack," Ron whispered. "They say it's haunted."

"It isn't," Harry said. "That's where Remus transformed every month."

"Really?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "They made the Shack just for him?"

Harry nodded.

"Well." Ron let out a short laugh. "Guess we don't have any reason to fear it after all, huh?"

Harry grinned. "No, I guess not."

He began to turn away but was arrested when he saw what looked to be a long, dark tail disappearing between the trees.

"What is it?" asked Ron, peering in the general direction Harry was looking.

Harry waited, but he could see nothing out of the ordinary. "Nothing. Probably an animal looking for food."

"It's about time we probably head back ourselves," Hermione said, checking her watch.

"Already?" Ron groaned. "Damn."

Harry couldn't help but feel relieved. Something was lurking out there. The Grim? The thought that a death omen was that close made him pick up the pace, Ron and Hermione hurrying after him.

Unseen by anyone now that the trio was gone, the large black dog straightened up. A man replaced it, his sunken eyes gazing at the spot where the trio stood.

"There you are," he murmured.

The Slytherins filed back into the Great Hall in confusion.

Ginny squeezed through until she found Kyra. "What's going on?"

Kyra looked as pale as she did when the dementor came onto the train. "Sirius Black," she whispered, eyes wide. "He tried to break into the common room."

"Are you all right?" Jayson demanded, looking her over.

"It happened during the feast," Kyra reassured him. "He was long gone by the time we arrived."

"Wait a minute." Tracey frowned. "Harry's in Slytherin. Why did he go for Gryffindor?"

"He night not have known," Harry pointed out. "I mean, you can't exactly keep up with everything that happens in the world when you're in prison, can you?"

"I suppose not. But it won't be long before —"

At that moment, Professor Dumbledore began speaking, telling everyone they were to sleep in the Great Hall for the night while the teachers searched school grounds.

The trio grabbed sleeping bags and settled in.

"How did he even get in?" a nearby Ravenclaw wondered.

"Apparated?" someone suggested.

"You can't Apparate here," Hermione said. "The enchantments would prevent it."

"Well, he got in somehow," Sid muttered. "What matters now is finding him and making sure he doesn't do it again."

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

Harry wriggled into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. It took a mere second to realize he wasn't about to fall asleep that easily and he could hear that most of the students felt the same. There was a lot of shuffling and whispering all around him.

He must've succeeded in dozing off for when he came to, Professor Dumbledore was speaking with Snape and Percy.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before the start of term?" Snape was asking.

"I do, Severus." There was a hint of a warning in Dumbledore's voice. "And I still stand by what I said. No one here would help Black."

Harry glanced over at Ron and Hermione. Neither of them were asleep, either, and both looked just as confused as he felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know how difficult it was to orient myself on a map of Hogsmeade? Very. Especially when the map differs depending on the site.
> 
> Fell behind in updating again. I’ll get back to it.


	23. Marauder’s Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gains two things he doesn't want: a tail named Percy Weasley and a newfound dislike for Professor Snape, as well as something he didn't know he wanted.
> 
> (Gee, I wonder what that could be /sarcasm.)

In the days following Black's attempt to break in, Harry found himself constantly in the presence of teachers, all of whom found excuses to walk the same corridor as him. Even Percy tailed him.

"Hello, Harry," he said in his usual authoritative voice, falling in beside him as Harry left the Great Hall one morning.

"Hey," replied Harry in a dull tone. He walked into the library and took out Miranda Goshawk's  _ Book of Spells _ . Percy followed suit after grabbing a book he most definitely did not need.

"Sir Cadogan still giving you trouble?" Harry asked after a few minutes of staring at the same page.

"Very much so," Percy said with feeling, "but no one else would take the job."

"Can't blame them." Harry turned the page. "Wouldn't want to lose my nose after it's been painted so carefully."

"Harry?"

It was Remus, who poked his head around a bookshelf. "Ah, there you are."

Harry closed his book and stood up. Percy did as well. "Something wrong?"

"Besides the usual?" Remus said dryly. "No, nothing's wrong. Come with me, will you?" He looked over at Percy, who had come to stand by Harry. "It's all right, Percy. I'll take it from here."

Percy sat back down, and Harry followed Remus out of the library.

Remus didn't speak until they were both inside his office. "Have you seen anything unusual the past few weeks?"

Harry went to say no, then relented. "I think I saw the Grim when we passed the Shrieking Shack."

Remus blanched. "And were there... any other times?"

"Once. On my birthday as I was getting into bed. Why?" Was the Grim really an omen of death after all?

Several emotions flickered in Remus' hazel eyes. "You need to tell me if you see this Grim again, all right?" he finally said in a rather fierce tone.

Baffled by his intensity, Harry nodded.

Just when Harry didn't think things could get worse, Professor Snape substituted for Remus' class.

"Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far," he said. "Not to worry."

His eyes flicked over to Harry, a malevolent glint in their depths. Whatever he was about to say next wasn't going to be good.

"Today, we shall discuss —" he flipped to the back of the book — "werewolves."

Harry's jaw clenched. Somewhere off to his left, Malfoy let out a small howl to Crabbe and Goyle, who laughed.

"Now turn to page three hundred and ninety-four," Snape said.

With some uneasy glances at Harry, they did.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf? Anyone?" He completely ignored Hermione's hand in the air and looked at Harry. "Not even you, Potter?"

"He hadn't covered it yet," Harry pointed out through gritted teeth.

"Yes, we were due to start hinkypunks," Hermione added.

"I did not ask you to speak," Snape said. "Well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..."

"Please, sir, the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways," Hermione said, hand still in the air. "The snout of the werewolf —"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," Snape broke in, black eyes glittering. "But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by your actions, given your tendency to be an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione lowered her hand, her eyes glistening with tears. Ron glared at Snape. "You asked her a question, and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

The class seemed to collectively inhale.

Snape swung his gaze to Ron. "Detention, Weasley. And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

He looked back at Harry. "And you, Potter? Do you have anything you want to add?"

Harry kept silent. Remus wouldn't want him to get in trouble for his sake.

"Hm. It seems Lupin taught you something after all."

When class was finally over, Snape had one more thing to say. "You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves."

Harry let out a scoff.

"Something you want to share with the class, Potter?" said Snape.

Harry lifted his chin. Manners be damned. "Yes, actually," he said fiercely. "Go fuck yourself."

Hermione and Sid exchanged shocked looks. Tracey clapped her hands over her mouth in apparent horror, although the muffled noise she made sounded suspiciously like a huff of laughter. Malfoy and Parkinson looked absolutely furious.

Rage flared in Snape's eyes, but his voice remained calm. "As I was saying, the essay. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, Potter, stay behind, we need to arrange your detentions."

Harry stared at the corner of Remus' desk.

"Well, Harry. Why did you curse at Severus?"

Harry looked up. Remus was leaning back on his desk, arms crossed over his chest. He still looked exhausted from his transformation the night before. "He wanted us to write an essay on how to recognize and kill werewolves."

"Ah." Remus smiled, but there was no warmth behind it. "Severus and I have never gotten along."

"And that makes what he said okay?" Harry couldn't believe Remus was just going to accept Snape's behavior.

"Of course not, Harry." Remus wasn't smiling anymore, and now Harry could see the pain and resignation on his face. "But telling Severus to go fuck himself is not going to help."

There were a million things Harry wanted to say, but he contented himself with an angry huff. "All right. I won't curse at him."

"Good. Now, shall we head down to the pitch? I reckon Hufflepuff doesn't stand a chance against Gryffindor."

"And Gryffindor doesn't stand a chance against Slytherin," Harry boasted.

Remus feigned an offended huff.

It was perhaps for the best that Slytherin decided not to play; it was pouring buckets overhead and he could hardly see a thing even after Hermione cast Impervius on his glasses. Not to mention, the chill seemed to seep through his skin and into Harry's very bones.

But he did have to give credit to the Gryffindors, who had stubbornly practiced through the challenging weather conditions. He caught a glimpse of Merrill getting hit in the leg with a Bludger and winced, remembering the previous year when Dobby had bewitched one into chasing Harry.

Then, for some inexplicable reason, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. He turned to the back of the stands. A flash of lightning lit up the sky and Harry's breath caught in his throat as he stared into the eyes of a shaggy black dog. For a moment, they were frozen, the match completely forgotten. Then there was a clap of thunder that seemed to shake the stands; Harry flinched and whirled back around.

Nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Harry glanced back, but the dog had vanished. Shaking, he tried to refocus on the match. But he could barely keep his eyes open. It felt colder than ever, as if he had somehow been transported to Antarctica.

_ But that can't be right _ , his foggy mind supplied helpfully.  _ You can't Apparate on school grounds _ .

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a woman's voice — his mother's voice, he realized with a jolt.

_ "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" _

_ "Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside now..." _

Ron, his face turned upward where the Seekers were reaching for the Snitch, staggered when he felt a heavy weight behind him. "Harry, what are you —? Harry!" He grabbed a hold of him before he could hit the stands.

His friend was unconscious, his face pale and cold. What was happening?

Then he felt it, that piercing cold. A few people screamed as dementors rose into the air, inhaling deeply.

Dumbledore raced out onto the pitch and shot out the same silver wisp Professor Lupin had used on the train to chase away the dementors. Within moments, the only cold Ron felt was that from the weather.

"Harry!" Professor Lupin pushed his way through the Slytherins. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his eyes were wild with fear.

"He fainted again?" Jayson said worriedly.

Malfoy looked as if he were about to make a stinging remark, but Sid elbowed him in the ribs.

Remus hoisted Harry's body into his arms. "To the hospital wing," he said to Ron and Hermione, who nodded and followed him.

Above them, the whistle blew, signaling Hufflepuff's victory.

Harry slowly opened his eyes. Why did he feel like he had just returned from a game of Harry Hunting?

It all came back at once. The Grim... the dementors... He sat up abruptly.

"Whoa, easy there." Remus' voice sent a jolt of relief through his body. "Here, eat." He handed Harry some chocolate.

"Where's Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked, noticing they were the only ones there.

"They were sent back to the common room."

"Moony." Harry's voice shook. "I saw the Grim again."

Remus' breath hitched. "Where? When?"

"Just before I fainted. Right at the back of the stands. It just looked at me."

Remus started to pace back and forth, muttering indiscernible words to himself.

"Is the Grim really a death omen?" Harry asked. "I mean, nothing happened after the first time I saw it, but it could've been a delayed reaction or something."

"No, no, it's not — I don't think you have to worry about that."

Harry cocked his head to one side.

"Harry, I had been... keeping something from you I probably shouldn't have. You know what an Animagus is?" He waited for Harry to nod. "Sirius Black's Animagus form is a big black dog."

"You mean... that was Black I saw?" Harry gasped. "But why didn't he attack? I mean, by all rights, he had the perfect opportunity during Hogsmeade."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out." Remus stopped pacing, his back to Harry as he gazed at the wall. "There's something we're not putting together." He ran his hands through his hair and made a visible effort to calm down.

Footsteps could be heard and Madam Pomfrey appeared. "Are you feeling okay, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded, holding up the remaining piece of chocolate in his hand.

"Good, good." Madam Pomfrey gave Remus an approving look. "You can go back to the common room if you're not feeling too drowsy. Your friends will be worried."

Harry nodded again and got up. "See you later," he mumbled to Remus' back and walked out.

Hermione all but pounced on him when he entered the common room. "Oh, Harry, you're all right! It was awful! One moment, everything's fine, the next, you're falling over."

"I'm fine. Madam Pomfrey gave me the clear. So who won?"

"Hufflepuff did," Ron said, coming over and guiding Harry to the nearest chair. "Diggory and Merrill were really close, but I guess Diggory was closer."

"He's not bad-looking," Tracey said, exchanging a grin with Daphne.

"Merrill looks even better," Jayson argued.

Everyone looked at him.

"What?" Jayson looked back defensively. "Can't a guy admire another guy's looks?"

"That's usually gay," Tracey pointed out, though there was no disgust like Harry expected.

"Usually being a key word," Jayson retorted.

Harry stifled a yawn.

"You better get to the dorm," said Ron, who had his mother's uncanny ability to see right through anything. "Come on."

Harry let him lead him away from the crowd and gratefully fell onto his bed face-first. "Ah, much better."

"Yep." Jayson had followed them in and was now lying on his back in his own bed. "Okay, I know I said a guy admiring another guy is 'usually' gay, but I'm not gonna lie: guys in general are nice."

"Isn't that wrong?" Harry asked.

Jayson turned his head, eyebrows furrowed. "Wrong?"

"In the pureblood circle, it can be since two wizards — or witches — can't produce an heir," Ron explained. "Why would you think it's wrong?"

Harry gave him a look, and Ron's mouth thinned.

"Is there  _ anything _ they approve of?"

"Besides Dudley, not much."

"Fuck them, then," Jayson said, twirling his tie around his finger.

Harry snorted. "Yeah. I guess I still have a lot to learn."

Remus held Harry back after his next class.

"You were oddly subdued this morning," he said softly. "Is something troubling you?"

"Besides the usual?" Harry countered, and Remus smiled a little. "Yeah, I guess. I, uh, I know who was screaming when I was near the dementors."

Remus' smile dropped. "Who?"

"My mum."

He felt Remus' hand grip his shoulder.

"Why did they even come to the match?"

"They're getting hungry," replied Remus. "Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up... I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch pitch. All that excitement... emotions running high... it was their idea of a feast."

"Can you teach me how to fight them off?" Harry asked suddenly.

Remus made a face. "I'm not exactly an expert —"

"I've already read about the Patronus Charm," Harry insisted. "I just need someone to give me pointers."

Remus searched Harry's face for a moment. "Oh, all right. It'll have to wait until next term, though."

"Great!" Harry bounced on his toes. "Can't wait!"

He ran out of the room, energized with the prospect of fighting off dementors. Remus chuckled a little. Harry certainly was his mother's son.

To everyone's delight, there would be another Hogsmeade trip on the last weekend of term. To Harry's displeasure, he was not allowed to go.

"But Remus signed the form!" he protested to McGonagall.

"I know, Potter," she said, sympathy softening her features, "but Professor Lupin was adamant about you staying."

A mixture of anger and frustration rose up inside Harry, but he tried to see it from Remus' perspective. Sirius Black, who had been his friend, had turned out to be a murderer. Last Hogsmeade trip, the Grim had shown up. It was no wonder Remus was on edge.

So on Saturday morning, when Harry said good-bye to Ron and Hermione, he did so with no real resentment.

"We'll bring you something," Hermione promised.

"But don't let Sid get a hold of it again," Ron warned.

Promising that he wouldn't, Harry began to head back to the dungeon. A voice whispering his name had him turning to see Fred and George watching him from behind a statue.

"Yes?" said Harry, walking over.

"We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," Fred said. "Come in here."

They led Harry into an empty classroom.

Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish. It was a square piece of parchment.

Harry looked at it, then up at the twins. "Care to explain or am I supposed to figure it out myself?"

"That's tempting," said Fred, "but we'll take pity on you and explain."

"When we were in our first year, Harry — young, carefree and innocent — we got into a spot of bother with Filch."

"We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason —"

"So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual —"

"— detention —"

"— disembowelment —"

"– and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked  _Confiscated and Highly Dangerous_ ."

"And you stole this," Harry finished.

"Stole?" Fred looked as though Harry had personally offended him. "No, we just... liberated it."

"So what does it do?"

In answer, George took out his wand and lightly tapped the parchment. "I solemnly sweat that I am up to no good."

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs_

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

"Moony!" Harry exclaimed, making George jump.

"You recognize the name?" he said.

Harry didn't answer right away. His eyes scanned the parchment, which was now teeming with ink lines running all over. He could see Dumbledore in his study, Mrs. Norris was prowling the second floor, and Peeves was bouncing around in the trophy room.

"Um, Harry?" Fred's voice snapped him back. "Care to explain how you know Moony or are we supposed to figure it out ourselves?"

"Tempting," Harry replied, "but I'll take pity on you and explain. Moony is one of our professors."

The twins' jaws dropped. "Professor Lupin?"

"Uh-huh." Harry was enjoying their gobsmacked expressions too much.

"But he's so mature!"

"I — well — no. No," Harry stammered. "He's not. He really isn't. He's about as mature as you two are innocent."

The twins continued to look at him in shock for a long moment. It was slowly replaced by grins.

"That explains it, then," George said. "I knew there was something special about Lupin."

"Yes, he didn't even fall for our tradition of welcoming new professors."

"So the rumors of Lockhart seeing himself bald in the mirror were true?" Harry asked.

He only received devious grins in response.

"I need to show him this," he said, stowing the map away.

"Can we come with you?" Fred asked.

Harry stared at him. "What about Hogsmeade?"

Fred waved a hand dismissively. "Been there, done that. Come on, let's go meet Moony!"

Harry had no choice but to let them come.

Remus was relaxing by the fireplace, sipping on butterbeer, when there was a frantic knock on the door.

"Come in," he called, not looking up. He heard the door open and multiple sets of feet shuffle in. It was quiet for a moment after that, so quiet Remus finally looked up.

Harry was there, along with the two Weasley boys, Fred and George. The latter two were looking at him in awe.

Harry took out a piece of parchment. "They stole your map.”

Fred gave him a dirty look and Harry corrected himself. "Sorry, they  _liberated_ your map."

Remus was already crossing over and taking the map from his hand. "Fuck," he murmured.

Fred gasped and covered Harry's ears.

"I'm used to this," Harry told him.

"Oh." Fred retracted his hands, but immediately turned to cover George's ears.

"You're Moony?" George said, still in awe.

"Yes, yes." Remus' eyes flicked over the map for a few seconds before turning to land on the twins. "Did you break into Filch's things?"

"Course not!"

"They let off a Dungbomb back in their first year," Harry explained.

Remus raised a brow but he didn't have time to comment; the twins dropped to their knees and began kissing the ground at his feet. "We aren't worthy!" they exclaimed.

Remus looked overwhelmed. "Fred... George..."

"He knows our names!" they squealed as if this were the first time he used them.

"Can you see Black on the map?" Harry asked.

The twins went quiet at his name and straightened back up, their faces sober.

Remus perused the map. "No, which means he's not on school grounds."

"Wouldn't we have been able to see him at some point?" Fred asked.

"No, because only Marauders can see each other's names."

"Black is a Marauder?" the twins gasped.

"Was." Remus' tone booked no further questions. He nodded to the twins. "Thank you both for... liberating this. It'll be very helpful in catching Black."

"Happy to help our favorite Marauder," George said with a salute.

"He's the only one you met," Harry pointed out.

"Irrelevant, Harrykins," Fred said, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"You gave the map to Lupin?"

Harry nodded. Ron didn't look happy about this, but Hermione's face was bright.

"That's good. Especially since he knows how it works." A new thought crossed her mind and her expression dimmed. "You don't think he'd use it for revenge himself, do you?"

"Revenge?" Jayson had plopped down on Harry's right side. "Are we talking about Parkinson? She gave me the stink eye during Tranfiguration the other day for some reason."

"That's because you made a dick joke," Sid pointed out, sitting down across from Harry.

"Not on purpose! It's not my fault they named it the  _Hardening_ Charm. And don't get me started on Engorgio."

"Anyway," Hermione said loudly before Sid could make a retort, "we're talking about Lupin. He knew Black personally and I'm worried he'll go after him now that he has this Marauder's Map."

"He wouldn't," Sid said, though he didn't sound certain. "Would he?"

Harry shrugged. The thought hadn't crossed his mind; he just knew he had something that would make finding Black more easily.


	24. Twas the Night of Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... when all through the cottage, not a creature was stirring; except for the one beyond the window.

The distinctive cracks of Apparation signaled the arrival of the Weasleys. Harry sat up, a loosely-wrapped package in hand. He wasn't even finished! He tied the ribbon around it and held it out for Hedwig to see. "Good enough?"

Hedwig looked as though he was offering a rotten squash.

"No? How bout you, Azure?" He turned to his plush snake lying on his bed.

Azure "nodded" in approval. “Your wrapping skills are astounding,” Harry said in a high-pitched voice.

"Works for me,” he said in his normal voice, racing out and down the stairs.

"Careful!" Remus called from the kitchen. "Don't trip!"

"Sorry. Hey, Ginny, I got you something from the zoo," Harry said, handing her the package. "I only just remembered to wrap it, so it's a little messy, but I think you'll like it."

Ginny began opening it right there and then. When she saw the journal, she looked at him questioningly.

"I figured you'd want something that didn't write back," Harry explained, gauging her expression. "If you don't like it, I'm sure I can find some other use —"

"I love it," Ginny whispered, and Harry pretended he didn't see the wetness in the corners of her eyes or her furiously wiping at them when Harry looked away.

Throughout the entire morning, snow fell heavily. By early afternoon, it had cleared away, just in time for a snowball fight.

From personal experience, Harry knew to avoid the twins. Ron was less lucky, especially since Harry used him as a human shield more often than not.

"Very funny!" Ron said when Harry ducked behind him for the fourth time.

"It certainly is!" Harry replied.

Meanwhile, Remus had just come out, having finished with his part in cooking. Harry snuck up behind him and stuffed a hand full of snow on his neck.

Remus squeaked at the cold and whipped around. "Oi! You're not getting away that easily!" he hollered as Harry raced away, laughing. He passed Ginny, who was waiting under a tree. She gave it a hard push and the snow from its branches fell onto Remus.

"Clever," he conceded as Harry and Ginny high-fived with a whoop. "Really clever."

The snow began to fall again later that afternoon along with a chilly breeze.

"Everyone inside now!" Remus called.

Harry skidded to a stop and consequentially received one last snowball to the neck from Ron. He scowled at the grinning redhead, sticking out his tongue.

Mrs. Weasley handed them all steaming cups of tea as they came in and told them dinner was almost ready.

Harry's mouth watered as the warm smells wafted over. By the grumbling of Ron's stomach and Ginny's eager glances toward the kitchen, he wasn't the only one looking forward to eating.

Finally, they were called to eat, so they eagerly went into the dining room and took seats around the table. There wasn't enough room for them all, so Remus pulled up chairs from the living room.

Ron's eldest brothers, Bill and Charlie, arrived shortly after everyone was settled in. While Remus conjured up two more chairs, Harry turned to Charlie.

"Did Ron ever mention our friend, Sid?"

"I think so. Isn't he the kid who likes crocodiles or something?"

"He loves all reptiles," Ron spoke up. "Crocodiles, snakes, turtles, dragons..."

Predictably, Charlie's eyes lit up at this. Bill snorted. "Wonderful. When they meet, they won't ever shut up."

Remus, who was sitting in a chair backwards while he ate, made a noise of agreement. "He sent me a Howler once. Something about female turtles being hotter than males."

"Temperature determines their gender during incubation," Ron explained. "Below twenty-seven degrees, male. Above thirty-one, female."

"And between?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe they get to choose."

After dinner, the guests left in high spirits, leaving Harry and Remus alone once more. Exhausted but pleased, Harry went up to his bedroom and was out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Remus yawned and stretched as he ambled out to the kitchen. James loved to say he was hungry like the wolf, which was true but Remus would never admit it.

As he munched on some toast, he looked out the window. It was snowing lightly, serenely. There was just enough moonlight to see the forest beyond.

Remus froze, peering more closely at the trees. There was something standing in the shadows, barely visible. It couldn't be...

He put out his coat, grabbed his wand, and stalked out through the snow, cursing as his foot sank into a drift. He pulled it out and shook the excess snow from it before continuing until he reached the tree line.

"Black, I know you're out there. Come out now."

For a moment, he saw nothing. Then a tall figure stepped out from the shadows. Moonlight outlined his skinny frame in pale silver and his eyes looked haunted. For a split second, Remus felt a pang at how ill he looked. Then he remembered the past events and tightened his grip on his wand.

"Remus." He spoke in a hoarse voice.

"I have a few questions for you, if you don't mind," Remus said lightly, trying to ignore the jolt that ran through his body at hearing his name.

Black swallowed. "Yes?"

"Why didn't you attack Harry?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard. "I — what?"

"Not that I wanted you to, of course, but something's not adding up. You had the perfect opportunity to exact your revenge, yet you didn't."

Black let out a hollow laugh. "I don't want revenge on Harry, Remus."

"Could've fooled me."

"It isn't." Black glowered at him. "It's Peter I want."

"Wormtail's dead," Remus said, his voice breaking. "Because of you."

"No, he isn't," Black said harshly. "That's what he wanted you to think. Here, look."

He reached into his robes and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

Remus slowly approached, keeping his wand extended, and took the paper. It was a picture of the Weasleys when they went to Egypt. "I didn't realize Azkaban offered the  _Daily Prophet_ ."

"It was a special issue by Fudge at my request because I missed doing the crosswords," Black explained. "Look at the youngest boy."

Remus did, was silent for a few seconds, and then he swore, his wand slipping from his grasp and falling into the snow.

"Oh, please don't tell me you use that language in front of Harry," Black said.

Remus hardly heard. "That's Scabbers... he's been really ill..." Harry had talked about the tension between Ron and Hermione over their pets. "But it isn't him... his toe..."

Black nodded. "He cut it off right before he transformed. When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats..."

Remus lifted his gaze. "But the Secret Keeper. That was you, wasn't it?"

A shadow flickered over Black's face. "No. I thought it was the perfect coverup. Everyone would assume it was me. Not even Dumbledore knew. And I hate to admit it, but I had suspected you were the spy."

Remus swallowed. "And I thought it was you. He played us all." His knees gave way and he sank into the snow, hands pressed against his face. "Dammit!"

He heard the snow crunch under Black's feet and felt his hand touch his shoulder, tentative, uncertain of how Remus would react. Remus blindly reached up and gripped him hard, his face buried in his neck.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "Sirius."

Sirius' arms wrapped around his back. "It's all right, Remus. I forgive you."

Remus could have stayed there forever, reunited with his friend once more. But he couldn't. He pulled away first, taking in a shuddering breath.

"Your trial," he said, picking up his wand. "Wouldn't they had realized you were innocent?"

Sirius scoffed. "Yes. If they had given me a trial to begin with."

"You never had a...?" Remus paused before his voice got too loud. "We need to tell Dumbledore first thing tomorrow," he said more quietly.

"Okay." Sirius glanced back at the forest. "One more night won't hurt, I guess."

Remus frowned. The trees looked much more foreboding up close. "You must be freezing your arse off in there. Come inside."

"All right," said Sirius, too eager to get out of the cold to put up a fight.

Side by side, they walked back to the cottage.

"I still want to know, Moony," Sirius said after a moment, "how often did you swear in front of Harry?"

Remus stopped, closing his eyes, and shoved Sirius. That was the first time Sirius genuinely laughed since that fateful night.

Remus awoke early the next morning. He got up, padded out to the kitchen and warmed up some leftovers, knowing Sirius would be hungry. Then he went to Harry's room and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Harry called.

Remus stepped inside, smiling when he saw his son sitting on his bed with his stuffed snake in his arms and his hair sticking up more than usual.

Son? The word had him faltering. Did he think of Harry as his son?

He shook away the thought for the moment. "Harry, there's been a... revelation about Sirius Black recently."

Harry stared, his sleepiness vanishing like dew on the grass. "Revelation?"

"Yes. We've all been worrying about the wrong person all along."

He explained to Harry what he had learned the previous night, of Sirius' plan, of Peter's involvement, everything. When he had finished, Harry was furious.

"Scabbers! We need to find him and bring him to the Ministry!"

"I agree, but not right away. You eat breakfast, I'm going to go tell Dumbledore and see if we can figure out a plan to catch him."

"Okay." Harry jumped to his feet. "Where is Black anyway?"

"He's sleeping on the couch," Remus told him. "He's been cold for far too long." He scowled a little at that. "I'd not bother him until he wakes up on his own," he added. "He needs all the rest he can get if he's gonna have a trial."

Harry nodded. "So you're leaving now?"

"Probably best if I do. I should be back in less than an hour." Remus ruffled Harry's unkempt hair, chuckling when Harry ducked away with a noise of protest, and headed for the door. "If he wakes up, tell him where I am," he said over his shoulder.

Harry decided to get on with his morning as normal, which meant brushing his teeth, in haphazardly throwing the covers back into position, and getting dressed.

He then quietly crept downstairs, plush snake in hand, pausing when he saw the man sleeping on the couch. He looked just as filthy as his image did, although he looked much more peaceful in his sleep. Harry bet he'd see his ribs if he didn't have the blanket wrapped around him.

Harry wondered what he should make him. He knew from personal experience that having a big meal after being used to very little was not ideal. So he went into the kitchen to see what they had. There were two plates with food with a charm that kept it from cooling off.

He took the plates to the table and began eating, watching the sky lighten to a rosy pink.

"That looks tasty."

"Oh, f — you startled me!" Harry exclaimed. He turned and glowered to see Sirius standing there, still wrapped in the blanket.

Sirius grinned sheepishly. "Sorry." He made a face. "Did... did you almost curse?"

Harry scoffed unconvincingly. "No..."

Sirius raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "The power of Moony," he said. "Where is he, by the way? Gone to get Dumbledore?"

Harry nodded.

"Figured. He said he would first thing in the morning."

"Well, it wasn't quite the first thing," Harry said, pushing the other plate toward him. "He woke up, heated this up, came to my room, told me you were innocent, and  _then_ went to get Dumbledore."

Sirius sighed loudly as he accepted the plate. "We've got a smartarse in the house, I see." But his eyes were gleaming mischievously, and Harry knew they were going to get along just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the twenty-fourth chapter... and it starts on Christmas Eve... That was a total coincidence.


	25. Where’s Wormtail?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Weasleys' morning is rather eventful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to be confused with Where's Waldo?

The first page of Ginny's new diary was splattered with ink. She just couldn't help it. The ink stayed on the pages like it would in a normal book. There was no fading away and being replaced by another person's writing. She let out a laugh of complete delight.

"Hey, Ginny," Ron's voice came from the other side of her bedroom door. "You coming out?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get your wand in a twist!" She put her journal down, keeping it open so the ink would dry, and went for the door.

"Enjoying your new book, I see," Ron said, catching a glimpse of the ink smears on the pages before the door closed.

Ginny nodded. "It's silly, I know. I just... I'm just glad I can enjoy it without being worried I'm gonna black out."

Ron smiled softly. "No, it's not silly at all." It was great to see his little sister back to normal again, or at least getting there. She wasn't as comfortable sleeping in total darkness like she used to.

They reached the kitchen, where they both came to a halt. Their parents and all their siblings were there, but no one was eating. Professor Albus Dumbledore and Lupin stood in the doorway, both looking grim. Ron had the feeling they've been waiting for a while.

"What's going on?" he said.

"Where's your rat?" Lupin asked without preamble.

"Scabbers? Um, he's in my room, sleeping."

"Can you go get him please?"

Ron glanced at his mother, who nodded, her expression strained, and slowly headed back up.

Scabbers was lying on his bed still, his fur as patchy as ever. What could Lupin possibly want from him? It had to be important.

Ron carried him back downstairs. "Why do you need him?"

"Because he's not what he seems," Dumbledore said. "Remus?"

Lupin moved forward, not taking Scabbers from him, but looking him over. His eyes hardened. "It's him."

"Who?" said Percy, anxiety edging his voice.

"Peter Pettigrew."

Ron drew back, holding Scabbers close. "That's absurd! He's dead because of Black!"

Scabbers stirred and lifted his head. He let out a sudden squeak and began struggling madly.

"What the... whoa!" Ron nearly lost his grip on him. "Scabbers, calm down!"

Dumbledore removed his wand and pointed it at Scabbers, who was wrenched from Ron's hand and into his own.

"Professor?" Ginny sounded frightened, edging closer to Bill.

"What are you doing with him?" Ron demanded. He started to move forward, but one look from Lupin stopped him.

"We need to test something." Lupin looked apologetic, but he didn't waver. "I promise if we're wrong, we'll leave immediately. But please, Ron. Let us do what we came here for."

Ron hesitated. He trusted Dumbledore and Lupin had been nothing but kind toward Harry. He nodded assent.

Scabbers thrashed even more violently as Lupin pointed his wand at him. A bright blue light shot from the end and within seconds, everyone was leaping back.

Scabbers had gone. In his place was a short, balding man.

"Merlin!" the twins whispered. Percy's eyes had bulged so much they looked like they were about to fall right out of his head.

"Peter." Lupin practically growled the name.

“Remus. My old friend." Pettigrew's voice squeaked. "And Professor Dumbledore!"

Lupin rolled his eyes and muttered, "Stupefy."

Pettigrew had no time to move. A red light hit him and he collapsed, unconscious.

For a long moment, no one moved. Then Percy, trembling, stood up. "All this time, we've been harboring a dead man?"

"Not so dead now," Lupin said darkly.

"But Black," Ginny said. "If he didn't kill him..." She seemed to be struggling to find the right words. "If he didn't kill him..."

"He was never after Harry, was he?" Ron said.

Lupin shook his head. "No. He wasn't." He laughed bitterly. "Certainly had us fooled. Even me."

Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder in comfort. "Go back home," he ordered. "I will take Pettigrew to the Ministry."

Lupin nodded and put away his wand.

"Um, Professor Lupin?" Ron piped up.

"Yes?"

"Is Black with Harry right now?"

"He is. And I hope for my sake they aren't wrecking the place apart."

Ron let out a short huff of laughter despite the tension.

Lupin and Dumbledore left, the latter levitating Pettigrew's inert body. A moment later, they heard two cracks.

"Wow." Fred had what looked to be a somewhat forced grin. "That was... wow."

"Yes." Molly blinked rapidly. "But it's over now. Eat your food. It's getting cold."

Ron and Ginny slid into their chairs and began eating.

The rest of their morning was subdued, broken only by their ghoul banging on the pipes in the attic.

Much to Remus' relief, when he stepped inside his cottage, Sirius and Harry were not wreaking havoc. In fact, they were calmly playing chess.

"Did you catch him?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore's taking him to the Ministry," Remus answered.

Sirius smiled. "Good." He swiped Harry's remaining bishop.

Harry narrowed his eyes and lifted his stuffed snake to Sirius' face. "You suck," he hissed.

Sirius huffed and turned to Remus. "He does that every time I take a piece."

"Oh, yes. He does that with me as well." Remus sat down next to him. "Once, he didn't even say anything. He just smacked me in the face."

Something soft and blue hit the side of his face.

"Like that."

"Azure is more of a cat person," Harry told Sirius, almost challengingly.

Sirius sniffed. "Well.  _I_ always had a soft spot for —" he searched for something to say — "chameleons."

He didn't understand the sudden gleam in Harry's eyes or the look of despair Remus sent him, but if there was one thing he learned when he saw James looking at him like that, it was trouble.

Cornelius Fudge was not having a good time. First there was a basilisk at Hogwarts, and now, not even a year later, there was a man everyone thought was dead sitting in front of him.

"I do believe," Dumbledore said in a voice far calmer than Fudge felt, "that there is no more need for the dementors at the school."

"Right, right." Fudge wrenched his gaze from Pettigrew, still in a trance from the Veritaserum he had been given.

A short woman with mouse-brown hair stepped forward. "And I believe there is no more need for Mr. Lupin to teach now that we know Black is innocent."

Dumbledore gave her a sharp look. Dolores Umbridge had never been his favorite person. She was too prejudiced, too narrow-minded, and she most certainly could think of a hundred excuses as to why Remus was a bad person without explicitly naming his lycanthropy even once. But here she was.

“At least let him finish this year before releasing him," he said to Fudge. "He is a fine teacher, and many students would hate to see him leave before the second term has even begun."

Fudge looked as though he would have been content with sacking Remus straightaway. But he sighed and said, "Very well. Mr. Lupin may stay till the end of the year. Then he must leave."

"Thank you." Dumbledore glanced at Pettigrew. "And Sirius?"

"We will see to him as soon as possible."

"Good." Dumbledore began to leave, then paused. "And for the record, it's  _Professor_ Lupin. At least until the end of the year."

Umbridge's face contorted into a grimace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore, probably, once he's out of earshot: Twenty points to Dumbledore.


End file.
